#didn’t make him a god or anything just made him eternally youthful

[seeminglyseph]

Listening to The Horse and The Infant, as Zeus commands Odysseus to kill Hector’s son… knowing Ganymede is a Trojan prince that Zeus kidnapped to make his immortal servant and cup bearer who wept at the burning of his homeland.

Like. Okay. Be lucky you’re immortal big man because like. Every other king with a hostage prince in that situation is getting poisoned. You gave him cloud cover when he asked for mercy.

Like I just. Can’t imagine Ganymede being a Prince of Troy and not having him get some righteous fury, even if he is in a situation where he cannot express it and can only express grief. Because he’s eternally a youth on Olympus serving Zeus.

[facioleeknow]

Time for love ° Hwang Hyunjin

Hyunjin. the immortal Adonis, falls for a human.

WC: 2094 Genre: Greek mythology AU, angst, smut

TW: make up artist reader, model hyunjin, smut, masturbation, thigh riding, handjob, mention of cum, borderline asshole hyunjin, greek gods and goddesses, mention of blood, angry hyunjin and angry deities

AN: thank you from th ebottom of my heart to th elovely @leeknowsallyoursecrets , for giving me her opinion about this.

My Kofi if you want to support me <3.

Hyunjin was old. Hyunjin was really really old. Eternal youth they called it. When one thinks about youth, they imagine freshness and fun; a colorful, colorful phase when you get to try new things and explore the world. Hyunjin’s life was anything but; he had seen every corner of this earth and tried every experience that was humanly possible. His life was flat and gray, there was nothing more to do and he was bored.

He remembered his first life. His name was Adonis and he was considered the most beautiful man in the whole world; he was so beautiful that goddesses soon appeared on his doorstep and asked to share his bed. That’s how his story became myth, or what people thought it was.

He had lived many lives from then, he had taken many names and done many things, he lived a tranquil life and minded his business; had sometimes taken a couple of lovers but nothing that had stuck to him. 

His life and pattern of change had come crumbling apart when one day the gods decided to come out in the open and introduce themselves to humans. With time everything was uncovered and the protagonists of every myth became their own kind of celebrities. He had never been more famous in his life, but he also had never been more lonely. He was beautiful and that was a fact, and with the fame came the modeling offers. He modeled for the most famous maisons of fashion of the world and people loved him. No they didn’t love him, they loved his body, they loved his face, they loved his fake smile and fake confidence.

His days were always the same, he would wake up at an insane hour, get on set, get ready, shoot, get unready, check social media and then go to bed, just to do it all the following day. Day after day the cycle had never been broken, for years on end. Until it had.

When he walked inside the photo studio, he could sense something had shifted in the air. He hated changes. A heavy hand smoothed back his unruly hair, his eyes closed almost on instinct after he sat down in his makeup chair. He had requested a special chair, made of one of the softest furs he had ever touched, where he could sleep and relax.

Something warm and small suddenly touched his shoulder, hesitantly. He hissed and his eyes shot open, his staff knew better than to interfere with his pattern. 

His breath hitched in his throat when he opened his eyes. This wasn’t his usual make-up artist.

“Sorry to disturb you Mr. Hwang, I am Y/N L/N, your new makeup artist,” your voice was sweet, way too sweet to be human, but he knew all deities by heart. Perhaps some kind of creature.

“What happened to Ha-na?” his eyes bore holes into your skull, his gaze held a fiery passion you had never seen in your life. Is this how an immortal looks?, you thought.

“She’s on maternity leave, sir,” you had never felt that nervous in your life.

The conversation died off after that but his eyes were fixed on you. There was something about you that Hyunjin couldn't quite pinpoint, his inside felt like they were lit on fire. His head told him that if he looked away from you, something bad would've happened. He had to have you, one way or another, he didn't even care if you were human or not.

Since that day Hyunjin had always waited anxiously for your arrival every morning. You would always greet him with a tight lipped smile while you closed into fists your obvious shaky hands. He liked to think your hands were shaking and your heart was beating out of your chest because of him. 

At night Hyunjin would lie awake and think about you, your hair, your lips, your hands, your eyes, but most of the time he would think about what laid under your clothes, how your curves would look and how they would feel in his big and soft hands.

He had to have you, he didn't care if you were human or not.

The second time Hyunjin spoke to you, it was weeks after your first encounter.

“What are you?” his eyes bored into yours like the first time you met.

 “What do you mean sir?” 

His presence felt almost overbearing, it looked like he was towering over you, it felt like he was everywhere, you couldn't run from him. But in reality he was still sitting in front of you.

“Don't play coy. What kind of creature are you?” 

“Creature? I'm human, sir,” your eyes wide as saucers at his assumption. You? A supernatural creature? 

“Are you lying to me?” His tone was stern and demanding.

“No, sir, I would never.” 

He didn't reply.

He was scary. Immortals were scary and dangerous for humans more than anyone else. You should've been fearful of him but a familiar throb between your legs kept growing and growing and you couldn't help but feel ashamed.

Hyunjin could feel your arousal, he could read it on your face. After centuries he could read human emotions quite well.

“Everybody out!” His tone left no space for arguments. The staff and photographers scurried out of the room with their hearts in their throats.

“Come sit.” The immortal patted his spread legs, his big hand encased your wrist.

“Excuse me?”

“You don't want to?” he sounded cocky now, a new emotion he let you see.

“I didn't say that,” you stuttered.

“Then be a good girl and straddle my thigh.” 

His hands never left your body, not even when you complied and positioned yourself how he asked. He was in control, he was the one guiding your movement.

A small gasp escaped your lips when you felt him ground you on his strong thigh.

“Please sir, touch me,” the shame fueled your pleasure like never before.

“No can do, get yourself off like this or don't at all.”

That was the best orgasm of your life.

After he touched you, Hyunjin couldn't get enough of you. He thought your voice was sweet at first, but your moans were even sweeter, your skin tasted like nectar and your pussy like ambrosia. He was addicted.

Sleep came easier to him now but not even in your dreams he could escape you. Your voice, your sweet whines, your skin, your scent, they all clouded his brain even in his slumber. He'd wake up hard as a rock every night and leaking. He would fuck his fist roughly, just how he liked it, he would use all of his toys and cum again and again until his seed had permanently stained his satin black sheets. But it wasn't enough. It was never enough. He had to feel you clench around him, he had to feel you rake your nails down his back, he had to push your legs to your chest and see fat tears roll down your cheeks.

So he would get up and drive to your house where he would fuck you until you both passed out. It became some sort of routine, one that he followed religiously. But the more he saw the bigger a foreign and strange feeling grew inside him. It started at the pit of his stomach and then spread through his chest like a warm blanket enveloping him in a tight hug. It was comforting and that unsettled him.

He was confused and ignorant, he hated that. But he knew that it didn't come from him, somebody was attacking him. That's how Hyunjin found himself in front of the goddess of love, Aphrodite, herself.

“What have you done to me?” he yelled. He knew yelling at a deity was not a smart move but the anger was consuming him, mixing with that strange feeling and making his blood hot.

“You cursed me, didn't you? You cursed me because I don't want to share a bed with you anymore, you selfish woman.” The moment those words came out of HYunjin’s mouth he regretted them. The room started shaking along with the anger of the goddess, everybody knew not to anger Aphrodite. he was foolish, he thought he could get away with it because he used to be her favorite lover. The goddess grew in stature, the light bulbs in the room exploded, leaving the only light her angry eyes. 

“You foolish human, how dare you speak to me like this,” this was not Aphrodite the goddess of love, this was the goddess of fiery passion and victory, “ I did not curse you. You do not hold significance in my eyes anymore, you are a mere human. Humans all fall in love, it’s their destiny.”

The walls of the pristine white room they were in started to crack under the gravity of the goddess full immortal form. Hyunjin knew that the fact he was not dead meant that Aphrodite let him live as a sign of charity and because of the time they shared their bed. But she did not give second chances, she never had so he quickly kneeled and when he felt the presence of the immortal get gradually less overbearing he got up and walked backwards until back hit the door as a sign of respect and then left. 

The drive home was pure madness, flashes of rage traveled through his body like lightning before leaving like nothing had happened. Hera was punishing him for angering her daughter, nothing was less expected from the goddess of family. When he stumbled into his house, with shaky hands he grabbed his ceremonial cup and offered his bloods to the gods to appease them and as a thanks for sparing his life.

The following day Hyunjin avoided looking at you in the eyes, he had never looked away from you, not even once. You were so used to having his fiery gaze on you that now your whole body felt cold as ice. 

‘Maybe he’s tired,’ you thought while you worked. Tired or not, you felt him miles away from you even if you were touching his skin with your very own hands. Something had shifted between you. 

The next day felt like a deja vù, Hyunjin still had his eyes closed and he still refused to talk to you. You felt wronged and cold. The following days followed the same pattern, it felt like a terrible nightmare. His nightly visits had also stopped and so did his texts. 

Anger and frustration were eating away at you. Work had started to get tougher and Hyunjin’s attitude was making your mental health drop. The last straw was the pouring rain, you were stranded at work, with no umbrella, when all you wanted to do was go home, eat ice cream and sleep.

Fat teardrops started dropping down your cheeks, why was this all happening to you? Why couldn’t you live in peace? Why was Hwang Hyunjin doing this to you?

“Are you crying?” That voice. Hwang Hyunjin.

“That’s none of your business, Hyunjin,” you furiously wiped at your cheeks.

“It is,” his hand cupped your cheek and you had no strength to fight it, “ it is because you are the only woman i’ve ever loved in my long life.” Your breath hitched in your throat.

“Say that again.”

“You, “ he paused, “ are the only wo-”

You didn’t give him the chance to finish his sentence, your lips attached to his and you richest deflated with relief. Kissing him felt familiar and natural. The recognizable desire that always lit within you when you were with him started spreading through you like wildfire. Your hands quickly traveled to his pants and unbuttoned his pants without thinking, you had done that countless times. His dick was already hard and leaking, waiting for you. Your soft hand wrapped around his velvety skin and tugged and moved just how you knew he liked, how you knew drove him mad. Your lips found his neck and nipped and sucked at his pulse point, his weak spot.

“Oh, baby, I’m not going to last, I think I’m cumming.”

A quick swipe of your thumb against his slip made him spill all over your hand, his head thrown back in ecstasy and his eyes tightly shut.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, lover, but first let me return the favor.” 

A hand on his chest stopped him.

“Take me on a date first.”

“Whatever you want, lover.”

[poppy-metal]

ranch hand!art is shellshocked after he hangs up the phone. he’s about to marry the woman he’s loved since his youth, and he’s feeling doubt trickle in the edges. for a split second he fantasizes about ending the sham here, running off to new york to find you, and fuck you then and there in front of your fiancé, but that fantasy dies as quickly as it came because art is a good man. he promised lucy he’d love her until death do they part, to hold her in sickness and health, and to fill her with the seeds of the children she will bear him. no matter how much you plague his being, he can’t continue like this. click! the lock on your box shuts into place and is shoved into the back of his mind.

he can’t even pretend to enjoy his wedding night. something he cherished since the very beginning of his courtship now sullied by you—by the thought of you. the shy blushing bride that lays below him makes his stomach turn, but he swallows it down and puts on a sweet smile. “no need to be shy, darlin’, it’s just your husband,” he says, rubbing on her clit softly. her soft pants throw him off. her shyness makes him sick. he wants to hear you: your loud unabashed moans and mewling, the way your hips would careen up into his touch, forcing more from him. the passive girl that lays in front of him cannot be further from you, but he loves her,,,right? so he shuts away any memory of you for now while he makes gentle, sweet love to his wife.

in new york you mull over art, something you only let yourself do when you were truly alone, because as good as he was, you couldn’t piece him together. he didn’t want you to leave, wanted you to love him, but he didn’t love you. but he also wasn’t happy, at least, he didn’t say he was. worst of all, the pregnancy test on your bathroom counter was laid face down. there were another 2 minutes left on your timer. you did the calculations in your head; honestly, it could be your fiancé’s; he had you in his bed after the second meeting. for him, it was your beauty and flirtations that made him cave so quickly. for you, it was the need for someone to hold you, to show you warmth. and has done nothing but that. but you can’t shake that the baby might be a reminder of your wickedness—that you spent the summer seducing a taken man over and over again. but you also might not be pregnant. there’s only a minute left. well, it wouldn’t matter who’s baby it was; both men would potentially pass on strawberry blond hair and blue eyes, but those were recessive traits anyways. your phone timer breaks the silence. you take a deep breath in and flip the test over. well shit.

art’s honeymoon is anything but smooth sailing. while he enjoys spending the day lounging next to his wife and going on excursions, the nights together makes him sick. because no matter how much he reminds himself of his love and devotion and promise to god, he cannot shake you from him. everything about her is a constant reminder of you and how she will never be you. her mouth that recites prayers every night with him before bed cannot make it past his tip without popping off for air. her hands that she keeps clasped in his while they walk along the beach are never shameless in their roaming, never gripping or scratching into his back. her cunt that she’s kept to herself all these years—saving it for him—is tight, but unlike yours, it’s vice-like. when art sinks in, it’s a reminder that he is bound to her forever; an eternity of gentle, polite sex. the one time he began fucking into her like he would with you, she cried and begged him to stop, and of course he did; he’s her husband after all.

it’s a week after art gets back from his honeymoon, and he’s out in the fields mending the fences after the storm. he wonders if it made its way to new york and if you found comfort in your fiancé’s arms. lucy found a job as your grandma’s caretaker—a new position since your grandma took a nasty fall at the beginning of the week and broke her hip—so there is not a moment in the day where she’s not around reminding him that you are not around. he’s focused in on his work when he hears a commotion from the house.

“what a fancy envelope!” lucy marvels, looking over your grandma’s shoulders, “what’s it for?”

“it’s my granddaughter’s wedding invitation, and it looks like she bought me plane tickets for it too.”you grandma reads over the letter you attached, “i hope you’re healing, praying for your recovery every night,,,please use the second plane ticket for a guest to accompany you, i know the travel will be hard on your own.” art’s ears prick up.

“why art, why don’t you come with me? you and her were quite close while she was here,” she says, a sly glint in her eyes.

“that’s nonsense, art has to tend to the ranch while you’re away,” lucy responds, her brows furrowed.

“you’re acting like he’s the only competent ranch hand here,” patrick butts in, “let the man go. i want to know how our cowboy likes the big city. plus i need him to convince her not to marry the guy,” art freezes at his friends words, “so she can come back and marry me.” art is going to throttle him.

“you’re being ridiculous. i’ll go with granny since i’m her caretaker, and art can stay and man the ranch like he always does in her steed,” lucy says with finality, “right, art?”

and because he is a good righteous husband, he obediently nods.

your grandma thinks he’s weak.

- 🤠

(up next, your wedding 😳)

GASP NOT THE PREGNANCY........ its definitely arts baby, no doubt about it. his seed is too potent. you already have a prominent bump by the time of your wedding - and in the end, art is the one who ends up coming with your grandma, if only because her and patrick are schemers and made it that way.

aurrrrrrr he's there for the weekend and you have him and your grandma set up in a fancy hotel - you didn't expect him to come - and you're nervous as hell to see him. his eyes darting to your baby bump immediately - pupils dilating - need him and reader to have a confrontation before the wedding, the day before or even the day of - dancing around eachother until the art can't help but ask who the baby belongs to. not knowing what he wants the answer to be. and you know its arts - had done the math in your head soon after going to the doctors. two months along, nearly three - when he'd fucked you in the barn - yeah, there's no question.

but you don't get the point in confessing it. he's already married. you're about to be. what good would telling him you're having his kid do? only cause more drama and pain, and you've given him enough of that.

but you can't lie to art donaldson, either.

"its yours, art. but don't - you don't need to worry. I don't expect anything from you."

he wants to die.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

I don't know if I got this on time, but happy easter, and happy upcoming holidays.

(*￣3￣)╭ <3 ( ´･･)ﾉ(._.`) My application is based on keeping the theme of Poisonous Love (Hercules is my favorite living teddy bear) Where the archaeologist and Hercules have been a couple for a while, and miraculously Zeus does not try anything with his son's girlfriend, since in his eyes that human is Hercules' greatest treasure and the last thing he wants is to hurt his son (all We know it hurt him to see him die in the original tournament) Even Poseidon looks her in the eye when she asks him for a recommendation to finish an essay on some mythical character or something related to mythical sea creatures. Hades is Hades, he's just happy to start a new family photo album. Adamas, at least he doesn't do any of her scenes and treats her like a daughter. Hermes describes her as a scary cat around her and Ares is envious of him as he understands some things he doesn't. Aphrodite finds her acceptable and adorable when Hercules drowns her in affection. And she's most adorable when he's embarrassed to be seen wearing thick-rimmed glasses. Göll at first was somewhat jealous that her brother Hercules has her girlfriend, but then over time she became attached to her and calls her big sister. And the best of the day is when it ends and Hercules decides that his girlfriend is the most huggable stuffed animal in creation.

-It had been several months since you came to Valhalla after dying a hero’s death, destroying the vase of poisonous blood so it wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands.

-It had been several months since you met Hercules and started a relationship with him, although slow, as you were hesitant being in a relationship, which Hercules saw as you just being shy, but he didn’t mind being patient.

-There was something different about you, comparing you to his first three wives, there was a pull to you, he wanted to stay by your side at all times, he felt so much joy, just sitting with you, answering your questions about his past, the history of Ancient Greece, he could easily spend the rest of eternity with you like this.

-He never made you feel like you were bothering him with all of your questions, answering as many as he could, and he made you feel so welcome in Valhalla, showing you all around the Greek pantheon that he called home, and where you now called home too.

-You were intimidated to meet the other Greek gods, anyone with eyes could see your nervousness around them, as you were a human and they were literal gods!!

-But Hercules never went anywhere without you and was the one to introduce you to them, being by your side to reassure you that you would be safe.

-Zeus- He greeted you warmly, “Ahh so you’re that human who poisoned herself to save the world! Nice to meet someone so impulsive!” Zeus was nice to you, not at all like what legends  had dictated him to be like. The reason for this was because he saw how his son looked at you, he saw how happy you made Hercules, it was a way to repay his sacrifice when he died in Ragnarok; even though he had been returned to life, he felt guilt and wanted to make amends. Zeus found you enjoyable, your curiosity and questions made him look forward to your visits. He was happy to answer anything you asked, as it made him happy to reminisce about his youth.

-Poseidon- Hercules had been nervous about you meeting his uncle, as Poseidon was notorious for disliking humans, but Zeus was the one to introduce the two of you and you shocked Poseidon by asking him tons of questions about his temples. Your sparkling eyes as he met your own, shocking both his nephew and brother, seemed to soothe him, you were so curious, like a young child. He answered your questions patiently, impressed by your knowledge of history, learning that you were an archeologist before you died. He asked his own questions in turn, about what the world was like today and Zeus was the only one who noticed his brother’s eyes soften when he learned that humans were working hard to save the oceans, righting our wrongs.

-Hades- Hades adored you when you first met him, welcoming you to Valhalla warmly, as he had heard from his younger brothers about what a curious and inquisitive maiden you were. Hades couldn’t help but beam as you asked him tons of questions about the myths you knew about him, asking him about the underworld, and you had nearly cried in joy when you got to actually meet Cerberus, who was like a giant puppy with you, enjoying your pets. Hades took several photos of you, Hercules, and Cerberus, with plans on putting them in the family photo album he had stashed away.

-Aphrodite- She adored you, while you were a bit intimidated at first, she was so beautiful, actually glowing with radiance, you felt a little self-conscious, comparing yourself to her, but she smiled warmly, welcoming you to the family, as you were with Hercules. She was surprised by your knowledge of history as you asked her lots of questions, and in turn she offered you advice when you asked her for woman-to-woman advice about dating Hercules, as you had never been in a relationship before. Her eyes were stars, learning that you had been single and that you came to her for advice, but she knew that she couldn’t use her specific tactics when it came to me, giving you basic information, to start you slow and steady. Hercules sent her a thank you note when you took his hand on the way back to his home, holding his hand but you couldn’t look at him, your face bright red.

-Hermes- Hermes and you were instant friends, which made Hercules laugh as you both began to rapid fire questions at each other, leaving Hercules on the side-lines, watching your interaction, but he thought it was amusing to see the two of you getting along. You loved it when Hermes would play his music for you, it was so soothing and your praise meant more to him, as you were new, your opinions were honest as you hadn’t heard his playing before. Hercules had to stuff his fist in his mouth when he came back, finding you both slumped over the table, sleeping after you had been comparing notes with mythology, finding out what was true and what wasn’t, you both looked like two kittens passed out in random places.

-Ares- You hadn’t noticed, but he tried to intimidate you, as Hercules was his closest friend, except for maybe Hermes, but when you smiled up at him, a sparkle in your eyes, greeting him, he felt himself melt, actually being a bit shy with you, which Hercules teased him for. You asked him so many questions about legendary battles in history in Ancient Greece, asking him about the tactics used by the various armies. Ares actually had to push you away, his whole hand covering your face as he felt embarrassed that he didn’t know all the finite details you were asking about. You weren’t bothered, however, by taking any information he was able to give, thanking him so sincerely, which made him actually approach Hercules to threaten him to not hurt you, or else.

-Adamas- He was a god that wasn’t mentioned often in history, but you learned that was because when humans began to record history, Adamas had been dealt with by Poseidon, basically rendering him incapacitated for centuries, so there was no record of him. You weren’t bothered however, asking him to tell you about his history, which made him grin as you sat beside him, looking at photo albums together. He was quick to adopt you as his daughter, finding you enjoyable to be around as you wanted to learn about him. He would never admit that he would wait by the front door of his home when he knew you were coming to visit, he wasn’t excited, not one bit.

-Goll- When you met the youngest valkyrie, you smiled so warmly at her that her face flushed, thinking you were so cute and nice. When she learned that you were the human that Hercules rescued himself, being a one-time valkyrie himself for that one incident, she was stunned, and became even more so when she learned that you and Hercules were in a relationship, even if you were very shy about it. You learned that Hercules and the valkyries were all close, as they were all demigods, and Goll in particular was quite close to her big brother Hercules. Goll watched you closely for a while, as she was upset that her big brother was in a relationship, but she was quick to see that you were a good person and you were quickly dubbed as her big sister, which you loved.

-Hercules- He adored you, everything about you, from your cute rambles, or when you’re wearing your thick reading glasses, everything you do is so adorable to him! Your shyness with him was endearing, but he never forced you to do anything you didn’t want to do, relationship wise, as he would make you take breaks to eat, bathe, and sleep, when you would be going hard  on your study sessions. Hercules makes you feel so special, always cuddling you, almost like you’re his personal teddy bear, nuzzling his nose against your cheek in soft affection and the first time you were bold, peppering his face with soft kisses, he melted under you, a smile so big on his face that you couldn’t help but smile back.

[elfdragon12]

was watching transformers animated and dear God, everything has the potential to be an AU. Like… What If.. Optimus fell at Archa 9 ?

The dynamic with Elita, Optimus, and Sentinel is so intresting as it is. Imagine if he fell, he shouted “Sentinel, Elita, GET OUT OF HERE!” Despite in his peril and moments away from doom.

Elita was adamant to go back for him as much as Sentinel but had to take the heavy spark and got out of there. Sentinel was FURIOUS. His emotions becoming more complex on how he feels for Optimus…

Him and Op were best buds, they always did everything together and challenged each other in the best ways in their youth. When Elita joined their group, their bond was tighter as ever. Things began to change as Sentinel grew feelings for Elita but it was almost obvious that she loves Optimus but wanted him to make the first move. Sentinel was jealous of Optimus’ selflessness, because he knew Optimus felt the same for Elita but was unaware the femme liked him back and he also knew Sentinel liked her so he backed off.

Elita gave Sentinel a chance, they weren’t officially together but when on some nice dates but it was clear that whenever Optimus was hurt or had anything he was excited about to say, Elita was all eyes and ears.

Again, Optimus’ selflessness is what really made him so attractive and beautiful to everyone and in his ‘last moments’ he still had the strength to shout to his friends to ‘Get Out of Here!’

Sentinel blamed everything on Elita for losing Optimus, an emptiness in him as he lost his best friend and best opponent. Someone who always wanted to beat just ONCE. Someone who died in the most selfless way and eternally he can never live up to now. This was all her fault, why didn’t she let him save Optimus!

Elita, not one to back down, screams at him that it was his fragging idea to go to this damn place! That he led Optimus to his death and even called him out his jealousy over Optimus, asking if that’s why he’s so upset, that he can’t beat Optimus to be the best now and that he didn’t really care about his so called best friend.

Ultra Magnus taking this case though, oooh boy. The after both Sentinel and Elita informed him and seeing how angry and hostile they were of each other.

Whew boy! Lots of misplaced feelings with Sentinel, the loss of someone Elita had wanted to explore a new relationship with, plus the overall loss of their good friend! Messy business!

And Optimus survives, I'm guessing?

[yhwhsdaughter]

pairing: trevor belmont x fem reader

content: forced vampirism, monster slaying, main character death, pining, angst, mention of animal death, usage of the word ‘assault’ to refer vampires feeding on reader

- this was meant as platonic soulmates but it can be seen as romantic too

“It hurts…”

Feet dragging across the rocky ground, you heard screeches of pain from behind, though they soon diminished. You could only focus on the pulsing sensation at the side of your neck; it was like fire rushing through your veins.

Preoccupied with your agony, Belmont was able to sneak up. He raised his whip, ready to kill off the last of the creatures when you suddenly turned, and with glossy eyes you said, “Help me…”

The whip managed to leave a thin horizontal line across your cheek as he pulled back, causing blood to drip out slowly. Now illuminated by the moon, Belmont saw the damage on you. Skin exposed by the ripped clothes showed multiple bite marks. Blood stained the corner of your lips.

She’s been infected..

Belmont didn’t see a monster but a scared woman who’d just been assaulted by vampires. He knew what she’d turn into, but he couldn’t kill her… not when she looked at him like this. Sunrise was approaching so he had to act fast.

Draping his cloak onto your form, Belmont proceeded to carry you into the nearest building, which so happened to be where the carnage had occurred. Upon recognizing the place, you began to panic, shaking and looking at him with distrust. “You’re safe. I killed every last of those bloodsuckers.”

The two of you stayed like that for a while, in that shitty stinking room. Eventually tiredness overcame your senses; Belmont felt weight settle on his shoulder. He wonder how a vampire could look so innocent whilst sleeping.

“Hungry…”

You felt parched; it felt like your throat had dried up, barely able to utter a word.

“I know.”

A rabbit was placed in front of you. Blinking at it, you directed a confused glance at the man. “I’m—this is.. for me?” He nodded. Taking the animal with traces of disgust, you raised it to your mouth. Blood gushed into your mouth; feeding made a horrible slurping that would certainly haunt you but there was relief amongst those troubling feelings.

You gulped every last drop, draining the poor creature of its life. Still, your hunger and thirst weren’t satiated. Biting your lip, you pondered on the next move. Because this man had saved you, daring to kill him or even feed off him seemed… rude. Not to mention, he seemed way stronger than you in terms of experience. Prior to this, you were a regular citizen. Maybe you could run away?

“Here.”

Trevor could see your turmoil. Most vampires needed to drain at least one human every time they fed—if they were being generous. They could survive weeks without blood but it made them weaker. Besides, it was older vampires who had this kind of self control. Newborns tended to be more unstable.

“Just take it before I change my mind.”

You did as told, though you were still unsure. Hesitating, you licked your lips before nearing towards the vein on his wrist.

Trevor let out a grunt when your fangs pierced him. Although you tried to be gentle, it was an uncomfortable feeling nonetheless. As he became lightheaded and you full, the mouth that was attached to his wrist removed itself with a ‘pop’.

After making sure he was alright, you asked for his name. “Trevor. Trevor Belmont.”

“Oh..”

“……”

“Oh! I’m (Name) (Surname).”

─── ☾☼☽ ───

“It’s dangerous.”

“I still-still want to go!”

The last remnants of sun were gone. Ever since your first encounter with the rugged monster hunter, you refused to part from him, following the latter like a lost puppy.

“I’m not much of a fighter.. b-but watch this!”

On cue, you punched the nearest tree, cracking it and making a sizable hole. You looked back proudly towards Trevor; except when you tried to pull your hand out, you were having difficulty.

“Ah. It’s stuck.”

Trevor couldn’t help but chuckle, walking away, clearly amused with your display of power. You pulled harder, “Hold on! Don’t leave me alone! It’s scary..” you muttered the last part while chasing after him. Despite being a creature of the night, the world and its evils still frightened you.

At the sound of a branch snapping, you yelped, grabbing a piece of Trevor’s cloak for security.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to Belmont when you punched a head clean off, practically decapitating one of the attackers. He might have been seriously injured if you had not intervened.

“Trevor.”

Gazing at you under the moonlight, he saw the hunger in your eyes as you held a man whom was still alive but struggling. His neck was exposed. Even so, you waited.

The Belmont turned away, giving you privacy to feed.

He knew that by allowing you to live, you would continue to take blood from others. Normally he wouldn’t feel soft towards a monster but whenever he thought of you, it was different.

His guilt was lessened when you drank from scum. Before putting the lives of innocents in danger, he would offer his own.

“Are you done?”

The corpse of the man was dropped unceremoniously as you joined Trevor, a light skip to your step.

─── ☾☼☽ ───

Despite adopting a nighttime lifestyle, Trevor was still human and had to conduct business during daylight hours.

He’d left your lodgings, which was an abandoned cottage, for a while. Nobody really passed through there anyway, so he thought you were safe. Worst came to worse, you could handle yourself. But as your self proclaimed protector, Trevor felt uneasy leaving you alone.

Maybe he should’ve listened to his gut because when he arrived, the door was wide open with dirty footprints leading in all the way to your coffin.

Two men had opened it—staring at the peaceful expression on your face, unaware that they were here to end you. To them it was obvious what you were. Even with that frilly white dress that made you look somewhat angelic, they couldn’t be fooled. As they raised their weapons to strike, Trevor used his whip. His sudden entrance startled them but it gave you the chance to wake up.

Eyes snapping open, you jumped onto the other man, taking both of you to the ground. His screams echoed shortly as you tore into his throat. The remaining one had no chance; Trevor left the room, closing the door on his way out, killing the light that entered and cutting off the way to escape.

Left alone with your prey, a smile crept up your face.

When you opened the door again, the dress which decorated your body was now stained red. There was hardly a clean piece on the material. Even so, you greeted Trevor with a hug.

“Trevor..”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“M-me too..”

─── ☾☼☽ ───

Forty years passed in the blink of an eye.

“You should retire.”

“Belmonts don’t retire. The only rest they get is when they’re dead.”

“Well I don’t want you to die.”

“I have to, someday.”

“No you don’t.”

It’s been like this for the past few years; Trevor was sixty now. His body didn’t look that of an aging man, but the expression on his face did. He’d seen too much and as time passed, it was harder to fight monsters by himself.

Of course you’d noticed that and suggested turning him. It was an ongoing discussion; Trevor didn’t fancy the idea of living an eternal life but the thought of leaving this earth without you was disheartening. He didn’t say it but the situation tore him apart.

There was also the fact that he was too old for you; forty years to be exact. You’d maintained your youth, looking lovely as ever. His doubts were shot down when you immediately said that you didn’t care about that.

“I just want you.”

He always kept pushing the conversation away and you were patient. Trevor supposed that you could’ve taken him by force if you wanted and when he inquired, you told him it would be like violating him, robbing him of the choice you were never given.

As understanding as you were; the time would come for him to decide and confront you about it.

That time was now.

He should have been more careful, but there was nothing to be done about it now. Trevor watched as the sun slowly descended. Would you make it here before he passed? Would he die without seeing you one last time?

When you woke night had already fallen. Trevor wasn’t home; he’d been late plenty of times before but this occasion felt different.

Upon stepping outside, the smell of blood hit you. It reeked, staining the very air. You immediately recognized the source—how could you not? You’d fed from Trevor countless times.

Rushing in that direction, you prayed to whatever entity was listening to keep Trevor safe. The world and its gods could condemn you, but not him.

Not him.

You found him sprawled on a big rock, a creature hovering over his crumpled figure. Without thinking, you tore it to pieces. Blood rained as his mangled body flew to various parts of the forest.

“Trevor!!!”

He let out a groan, which would’ve made you sigh in relief but his visible injuries proved otherwise. You were no doctor and even if you could carry him into town, it would be too late. There was no other option. If you didn’t do anything, you might lose him.

“Trevor. Let me do it.”

Still conscious enough to reply, “I don’t want to become—”

“A monster?”

“I cannot become what I sought to destroy..”

Tears escaped your eyes, blurring the image of the person whom you treasure most. “Please.. please please please..! Don’t leave me alone!”

You begged, knowing it was unfair to pressure him in such way but you couldn’t bare the thought of existing if he wasn’t present. He was your salvation, your companion…your world. And yet, he was being robbed from you.

So soon… It’s too soon!

You always imagined Trevor living well into old age, spending the remainder of his life with you, being happy. He was destined to die peacefully, not like this. Not in this shitty place, by the hands of a shitty monster!

“I can’t. I’m sorry..”

Grabbing his hands, you lowered your forehead on them, crying your heart out. It was unfair. Life was unfair.

“Kiss me.”

Despite the pain that he was in, Trevor found it in himself to smile. For you. “Kiss me one last time.” Tears dropped slowly as you heard him. Shaking your head; you couldn’t kill him.

“I want it to be you..”

His words struck a chord.

Lifting him by the neck in a gentle manner, you pushed the collar of his shirt aside, exposing his carotid. As you bit into his familiar skin once more, your other hand caressed him, trying to make this goodbye as painless as possible.

With every sip you took, tears fell down.

I love you! I love you! I love you!

His warm hand turned cold.

You held him in your arms like he once did to you, with the outmost care, with the love he deserved.

Since Trevor didn’t say where he wanted his body to be buried, you chose the nicest spot. It was a secluded place where it wouldn’t be dug up by animals or people—but not so hidden either.

Whilst cleaning the blood that covered his body and face, you found a piece of cloth with writing on it. Staring at it, you recognized the Belmont insignia. Turning the material, you managed to read the words…

Take this. Go to Alucard.

Trevor must’ve written that in his final moments; probably in case he didn’t make it before you arrived. The letters were sloppy because of the blood but you could read it well.

Clutching it to your chest, you sobbed until the light of day began to burn. For a moment you wished to stay there and disappear. Perhaps you could join Trevor.

Together even in death..

─── ☾☼☽ ───

The journey was rather long.

Looming in all its glory, Castle Dracula. You looked at the last piece of your beloved, holding it tighter in your hand.

“Okay. Let’s meet this Alucard.”

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

(/rp! also, huge trigger warning for assault, graphic violence, death, abuse, possessive behaviour, obsession, mental breaks, hallucination, really fucking creepy treatment of a corpse, unreliable narrators, the perspective of a villain, torture, manipulation, and gaslighting! this gets pretty fucked up).

When Dream sees Tommy for the first time, there is no dramatic shift, no acknowledgement that his life had changed forever. No knowledge of the fact. All he sees is a skinny little kid who's obnoxious and loud, and he catalogues him just as one of Philza’s strays and leaves it at that.

No, it’s when Tommy drives the sword into his chest for the first time, and Dream wakes up from his non-canon death smiling despite itself when it clicks. He’s not sure what “it” is, exactly, but it’s just something about him Dream hadn’t seen in anyone before that has him hooked, captivated from the beginning.

(There's the vague recollection that he was like Tommy once, a bright eyed naive youth too loud for his own good, but that’s not unique. It’s not that, at least not entirely.)

The conflict was not started by Tommy, nor was he of any particular threat to Dream, but he was fun. So he ignored the rest, and took the boy's music discs. He knew Tommy well enough that he’d fight for them, and fight he did, and even though Dream lost in the end he laughed all the while. He’d played many a game before, but none quite this fun!

They both know this isn’t where it’ll end. Only one hopes it will be.

——

Dream didn’t care much about Wilbur's little revolutionary movement at first. As long as he obeyed the rules, and stayed in the server, it wouldn’t matter whether he delusionally thought he was under his own governance or not.

This changed immediately when he learnt Tommy was involved.

L'Manburg, a name he didn’t bother to remember until he learnt Tommy named it, was tiny, barely any more than a scavenged old world vehicle and some trees. It’s populace was peaceful, only Wilbur even an adult. None of that mattered. It wasn’t that the nation was a threat, though he certainly wouldn’t dissuade his friends fear that it was. But fighting L'Manburg meant fighting Tommy, and Dream wouldn't pass up the opportunity for anything.

He grinned with glee behind his mask as he blew Tommy's strange dirt hovel “embassy” sky high, enthusiastically threatened Tommy before remembering half heartedly to threaten the rest of the nation. He made dealings, found weak links- a new immigrant to the SMP that joined L'Manburg after the war began, it turns out. He offered extravagant promises in exchange for their betrayal, hiding the strings attached to his fingers.

Oh, but it was all worth it when the person with the eyes of an old god lead the revolutionaries into a trap, all worth it when they descended on them at once. It was definitely worth it to kill Tommy, kill Tommy, see him scream and cry in pain and stumble trying to escape and him taking a shuddering last breath. Dream had never seen anything as beautiful.

(It was a war, and feelings like this were okay in wars, right? It’s not like he was obsessed, it’s not like he was a monster. He’d been trying to be good, and killing your enemies was good, right?)

He killed Tommy a second time, too. The boy with shaking hands and a leg hanging limp challenged him to a duel for his nations future. His loss was assured, and Dream knew Tommy knew that also. This one was quicker, Tommy dead between the arrow entering his skull and his broken body make a loud thud against the planks, but it was no less fascinating. If only he had infinite canon lives, Dream would happily give up any ambitions and spend eternity seeing the boy die in so many fascinating ways.

(No, what the fuck was he thinking? The SMP was worth more than some stupid kid, and Dream wasn’t so inept with morality to know torturing someone over and over, killing them, was wrong.)

(Yet, it was so tempting he was almost ready to renounce morality wholeheartedly.)

It eventually comes to the discs again, Tommy handing Dream his prized possessions for some silly little nation. Dream knew Tommy would do anything to get them back. Having so much control was addicting, even more than control of anything else. Dream had learnt long ago that if you didn’t have complete power over anything, people would take the power from you and make you hurt.

So why did he care more about control of some kid than avoiding his own pain?

——

Dream would have sided with Tommy. Really, he would have, but Schlatt just had the better deal.

He holds the book in his hands, power filling him. He repeats the incantation, sacrifices the blood from his veins. He stares into the face of a man near-identical.

“”Brother dearest,”” he says, voice level. “”What do you wish of me?””

Dream grins behind his mask. “”Tommy.””

—

Wishes must come true, Dream thinks, as he sits on the beach of Logstedshire, Tommy passed out and leaning against his arm.

Oh, what he’d give for this moment to last forever. Alas, it passes, like they all do. Still, Tommy's getting so obedient lately- barely even grumbling as he threw his item into the hole. Part of him missed when Tommy would fight back all the while- his pained screams were entertaining. Still, it was safer this way, and more enjoyable in the long run. He’d hate to have his little songbird break it’s neck against the cage doors, never to sing again.

He’s not sure when life outside of Tommy became a chore, but he remembers dimly that it wasn’t always like that. There was a Dream long ago that wouldn’t give up friends and family, who'd cry over losing them even if he’d cut their threads voluntarily. He wasn’t that Dream anymore, the numb feeling in his chest a sign of growth. It didn’t matter that everything outside of Tommy was so miserable, because just being around the boy was a feeling a hundredfold better than any happiness he felt before.

Still, he had duties and responsibilities. Ones that seemed so important long ago, so fulfilling. Maybe one day they’d feel like that again. He had plans, from what he learnt. Government had not left him satisfied, but- whatever you could call what his relationship with Tommy was, it definitely did. Family, he supposed, recognising the boys actions towards him and his brothers. If he could make the entire server like that, that’d be a happiness greater than any other, apart from how Tommy made him feel.

He spent time with Tubbo, getting further and further towards getting that stupid fucking ram boy to calling him a friend and giving him Tommy's disc, all he wanted from him.

(He wasn’t jealous, of course he wasn’t. The anger he felt whenever Tommy called Tubbo a friend, that wasn’t jealousy. That was just logical).

Far more interesting was checking on the prison's completion. When it’s completed, it’d truly be a thing of beauty. Of course, his favourite part was the main cell, that he’d put so much thought into. He’d included all the little things that made Tommy squirm, made his breath hitch and eyes dart around fearfully. That would be so much fun.

(Tommy would learn to appreciate the fun in time, too. He was a smart boy, if irritatingly yet fascinatingly stubborn. He just needed to be taught that if he listened and just played along, Dream could give him the world.)

It took far too long, but eventually it finished, and he could return to the ugly mess of tents and logs he’d made so sure Tommy could never leave. He always started shaking when Dream showed up, trying desperately to hide his fear in his voice, and it was absolutely adorable. Dream savoured it, savoured everything about Tommy as they spent hours talking. Everything, his hysterical laugh, his nervous glances for escapes, the way he flinched whenever Dream grabbed his shoulder, his wrist, the poorly hidden look of pain when he held tighter, just hard enough to irritate the bruises that painted his skin a canvas of black and blue, it was all perfect.

Only he could love Tommy this much, and in time he knew Tommy would learn to appreciate that.

——

The second time he used the book, a tower extended from the ruins of the makeshift prison he’d made for Tommy. DreamXD stated ahead of him.

“”Brother dearest,” he said, “why are you calling on me again so soon?””

“”Bring him back,”” he said, voice painfully numb.

DreamXD shrugged a shoulder, golden hair waving around like in water. “”Who?””

“”Tommy.””

“”I cannot,”” DreamXD said. “”He lives.”” Dream couldn’t help but smile at hearing that.

“”Then bring him back to me.””

DreamXD laughed, a sound like church bells. “”That would be unnecessary. Did I not already grant you the mortal?””

Dream clenched his fist hard enough blood dripped onto scorched earth. “”He left me-“”

“”And you shall find him, no matter what.”” DreamXD smiled under the mask. “”You are bonded to him, and neither death nor distance shall break that. Just look, and you will find him, til the end of time and even past.””

“”Thank you,”” Dream said, genuinely for once.

“”Only the best for my little brother and sister. And I know you would do the same for us, brother dearest.””

——

His planning had come to fruition for once.

They were alone, in the depths of the Earth, just him, Tommy, the fucking hilarious excuse for a “president” Tommy called a friend for some reason, and his axe.

Finally, he could bring his dreams to fruition. He could get rid of any loose threads, and claim what was rightfully his. And once he’d taught Tommy to be grateful, he could get to work on the rest of the server.

It’d be beautiful. Everyone would be his friend, his brother, his sister, something in between. There would be no more wars, just peace. Everyone would be safe, he’d know they’re safe and they’d never rip him to pieces and laugh at his pain. And oh, it’d like be hard work, breaking everyone into obedience but not too much to the point they become boring, but so enjoyable and satisfying. He’d almost be disappointed when it was over.

Tommy- his Tommy, his Tommy, was crying, and it was amusing but he almost wanted to reach out and comfort him and explain it’d all be for the best. He’d do that later, once he’d secured him and any loose ends were gone forever. He couldn’t afford weakness until they were alone, but Tommy made it so tempting.

The ram and Tommy hugged a final goodbye, and the adoration he had towards Tommy, hiding his fear behind a smile, made Dream fucking sick. He should know Tommy was his. They all should know. He’d teach them, when he made the server a perfect family. Even Tubbo, if Tommy begged enough. Dream would do anything to hear Tommy's pathetic, gorgeous begging, breaking through his aggressive walls, and bringing back some random sheep was easily in his brother's power.

See, he could be kind. He wasn’t cruel, he wasn’t a monster. He didn’t even care if he was anymore, fun was so much more important than nonsensical human concepts, but it wasn’t even true. He could be incredibly, selflessly kind, as long as he had a reason. They’d learn, once he fulfilled his dream.

The sound of a nether portal, of betrayal, shatters his dreams and at this point he wonders why he’s surprised.

——

He’d had doubts, during the weeks (months, years? he had no way of knowing) he’d been trapped in the cell, but Tommy being here with him confirmed his design was excellent.

Oh, Tommy was being fucking obnoxious- and Dream knew he was doing it on purpose- but he saw it in the way he never was able to look at the lava properly, the way he always woke up in a cold sweat calling for his daddy like the child he insisted he wasn’t. It was perfect.

(Of course it was, though. It’s not hard to build on something already perfected, and Tommy was the perfect little toy.)

Tommy was so frustratingly different though. He tried not to take it out on him- it wasn’t his fault that everyone else spread lies, planted nonsense in his head about Dream being bad and not trying to do the best for everyone but especially for him- but he struggled sometimes, and it was always so tempting to hurt Tommy anyway, and get lost in the melody of his screams. It wouldn’t teach Tommy anything though, and that’s what was important. He needed to teach Tommy what was best for him.

Tommy had unlearnt all the lessons Dream painstakingly taught him. That wouldn’t be an issue- it was so, so fun to teach- but he knew, painfully deep down in his heart that he could not hold Tommy forever, not yet. The lockdown wasn’t forever, and Dream had no escape route yet. Tommy would just forget everything again, at the hands of his “friends” that couldn’t love him as much as Dream did. They needed to learn far more than Tommy did.

(Except Ranboo of course- oh, the purple eyed boy had the silly naive thoughts in his head everyone seemed to have that friendship was anything but possessing another, but he agreed family came first, listened to Dream, helped him, even with clenched teeth.)

And when one day the frustration got to Dream one day and he was so furious he hit Tommy again and again against the walls of the prison and strangled him until he was cold all he could do was laugh and laugh and laugh.

It was so, so funny, because of course he’d be the one to destroy everything he loved.

——

This time, when DreamXD is called, he looks upon his brother with concern.

“”Brother dearest,”” he says, “”are you quite alright?””

Dream laughs, because of course he’s alright! The tears staining his face must be joy, because of course he’s alright. He’s holding Tommy here, with him, and he was quiet, he must be listening. He can’t be dead, he can’t be, then there’d be no point to any of this.

“”Drista has been concerned for you for quite a while, you know,”” DreamXD continued. “”Is this because of your mortal?””

“”He’s been ever so quiet lately,”” Dream said, with a voice hoarse from crying and laughter. “”I’m not sure to be concerned or happy with him.””

“”You’re not well, Dream.”” DreamXD said, with a tone of finality despite clearly being wrong. “”The boy is dead.””

Dream laughs. “”And yet he does not slip from my grasp.””

“”Then, brother, why did you call me?””

The silence pierces through air like a knife. Eventually, through hiccuping sobs, Dream says “”Just, please, bring him back.””

Tommy sputters to life with ghostly eye and pure white streaks and more bruise on him than corpselike skin and Dream thinks he has never been more perfect.

——

Quackity's left, he thinks, because the pain's stopped growing.

He laughs, because he doesn’t know what to fucking do anymore but laugh. He can’t give up the secrets of the book, of course he can’t. Family comes first, after all, and he dreads to think what the bastard would do to his brother. But the pain was awful, never ending in waves through his whole body, and he almost just wants to confess so he can die.

He cradles what’s left of his arm since the bastard cut it off at the elbow, and he sobs. He doesn’t even care to hide it with his mask. It’s not even the pain that hurts the most, even. It’s that Tommy's gone, and by the time Dream escapes- because he’s going to escape, he’s got to- he might be so far from his grasp even their fates being tied might not be enough.

“Of course that’s not true,” a fake voice says in his head, and wavy form approaches. Fuck, the blood loss must be bad today. It always is when he sees things. Usually it’s George or Bad or Sapnap, and it leaves him with a numb feeling in his chest that he’s familiar with, but today it’s Tommy, and that’s worse. It reminds him of what he cannot hold.

“Fuck off,” he mouths at the apparition, voice too tired and hoarse from screaming to speak properly. Not-Tommy laughs, and the sound is so similar to Tommy he almost thinks that his desperate prayers have been answered, Tommy is there again, but he reached his fingers forward and they go through his tired hallucination.

“You’re a real dick, you know that?” Not-Tommy says, and laughs again. “But I know you mean the best.” Dream shrugs his shoulder at the fake, and then curls up, new waves of pain curling up his arm.

“I don’t know why I was ever friends with that bastard.” Not-Tommy lies, and Dream wants to believe it. “You’re just having fun. He’s cruel.” Tommy would never understand that clear distinction, no matter how much Dream explained it, but the fake said it with such conviction it was almost enough for Dream to fall for it.

“When you get out, I’ll be there, Dream. And then we can all be a big happy family,” Not-Tommy says, the thoughts so obviously Dream's and not Tommy’s but- the idea that Tommy understood, that he saw sense, was so tempting, Dream allowed himself to believe it, just for a second. Just until the pain started anew.

Broken and bloody, Dream drifted into unconsciousness with a smile on his face.

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 21

Hannibal and y/n go after Chase and uncover a much larger operation than they could have imagined. 

@dovahdokren @deadman-inc-bikeshop @lov3vivian @wisesandwichshark @scpdragon 

Trigger warnings: racism, mention of sex trafficking, religiously-motivated sexism/paternalism, American evangelism

Faced with the reality that you could die or worse, you wanted to go out with a bang. You wanted to take Borrasca down with you.

Hannibal checked the phone while you took stock of the weapons. Between the shotgun you just bought and the handgun in your car, you had enough firepower to have a chance at making it out alive.

You loaded the guns into your car. That way, if you were stopped, the licensing and registration would be consistent. Your car, your guns. Then there was the cover story. Newlyweds, on a hunting trip through the mountains.

"He's on Cactoctin Mountain." Hannibal announced, carefully scrolling through the information on Will's mangled phone.

You shut the door and put the key in the ignition. "Great, that's about an hour and a half, we should be there by sunrise."

“It’s the same mountain as Camp David.” He added. “Now, is that symbolic or--?”

“Or is he just too stupid to realize it’s a bad idea to headquarter a sex trafficking operation on the same mountain as the presidential retreat?” You finished. 

Hannibal gave you a smile, as if to thank you for filling in with what he was too polite to say. “I’m inclined towards the latter.” 

“Oh yeah.” You nodded. “Absolutely the latter.” 

“Regardless,” He said, examining Will’s array of apps. “We have time to browse the contents of Will’s phone for any relevant information.”

“Good idea.” You agreed, pulling on to the street. “Check his notes and his camera.” 

“It looks like he was recording the questioning when he and Jack Crawford approached Pastor Armitage.” He observed. 

“That’s great.” You exclaimed. “Play it. Maybe it’ll give us something to go off of.” 

The audio was grainy, but at max volume, you could make out two distinct voices. One belonged to Jack, meaning the other had to be Pastor Armitage. 

“Calvin Armitage, my name is Jack Crawford and this is Will Graham. Can we have a few minutes of your time?” 

A short silence followed, during which Jack presumably showed his badge. 

“Of course. We here at Holy Eternal Shepherd support our officers of the law.” Armitage said. “If you’re here about the blue lives matter potluck-” 

“I’m sorry, let me be more clear.” Jack interrupted. “We’re from the FBI. Sources have indicated that Chase Mulvaney was employed at this church and we’d like to ask you a few questions.” 

After an incriminating silence and the sound of a closing door, Armitage spoke again. “Can I get you gentlemen anything?” 

“No, thank you.” Said a cordial, but annoyed, Jack. “Mr. Armitage, what do you know about the Ministry of Truth?”

“Wait, hold up.” You interrupted. Hannibal paused the playback. “Is that an Orwellian reference?” 

“That would not surprise me.” He conceded. “We already know he doesn’t understand satire.”

“The Ministry of Truth is a nonprofit that keeps the lights on around here.” Armitage answered. 

“You have a very strange definition of the term ‘non-profit’.” Will added. “According to their most recent tax records, they funneled over ninety million dollars into this place.” 

“We are very blessed.” Armitage said, dismissively. “It’s because of the Ministry of Truth that we don’t rely on our congregation for funds. We want to allow our family the luxurious spiritual experience they deserve at no cost.”

“But you still accept donations, do you not?” Jack probed. 

“Well, there are extra expenses when you serve so many people.” Armitage rationalized. “The donations are really just investments into our community. Mission trips, vacation bible school, youth groups and the like.” 

“Camp Big Brother one of those?” Will asked. 

You and Hannibal shared a look of disappointment but complete non-surprise. 

Armitage clicked his tongue. “Well, it’s a wonderful program for young Christian women and girls. About two hours from here, secluded, a perfect place to get away from the city to relax and focus on god’s true design for womanhood.”

“That sounds lovely.” Jack said without any real sincerity. “And they employ predominantly female teachers?” 

“Err.. no.” Armitage answered. “Hence the name ‘big brother’. It’s a male-led program. Jesus says that men are to act as spiritual guides for the fairer sex.” 

“I see.” said Jack. You could hear the contempt in his voice. 

Armitage grew defensive. “Are you here to judge us for our religious practices? Because last I checked, the Free Exercise clause says-” 

“I’m familiar with the constitution, thank you.” Jack stopped him. 

His defensiveness turned accusatory. “Then why has the FBI sent agents to judge our expressions of faith?”  

“Because Camp Big Brother doesn’t exist.” Jack countered. 

A third long, incriminating pause followed. “Come again?” 

“There are no records whatsoever of a church mission under the name Camp Big Brother existing anywhere in the country.” Jack explained. “The property does not exist outside of the walls of this church.” 

“I thought you came to talk about Chase Mulvaney, Agent Crawford.” Armitage’s voice rose. “Whom, for the record, does not represent our faith. A real Christian-” 

Jack cut him off. “I’d rather you not change the subject, pastor.” 

“You are a guest in my church-!” 

“Just tell us where Camp Big Brother is.” Jack’s voice hardened. “Tell us what Mulvaney is doing to those missing girls.” 

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” 

“Sir, if you continue to deflect,” Jack warned. “I’ll have you arrested for obstruction of justice or worse.” 

The click of a revolver filled the air. Both Jack and Will withdrew their guns in response. Another long pause. 

“Hello, police?” Armitage said, faking fear. “A large black man posing as a federal agent is harassing me. He has a gun.” 

“This is ridiculous.” Jack said, though not without a twinge of nervousness. “Put the--” 

The recording abruptly ended in the middle of the sentence. You realized you’d been sitting at the same stop sign with your turn signal on for who-knows-how-long. You made the turn, then pulled off to the side of the road and put the car in park. You searched your entire vocabulary for words that weren’t just ‘fuck’. 

“Fuck.” You said, failing entirely. 

“I’m not surprised that this is bigger than Chase.” Hannibal replied, always one to approach fear with logic. “But that means it’s bigger than us.” 

“You’re right.” You nodded, reaching for your phone. “Which is why we need a fail-safe.” 

Hannibal tilted his head. “Did you have something in mind?” 

“Yep.” You said, fingers flying across the phone. “Could you send me the address?” 

Within seconds, you received the address and just as soon sent it off. A few minutes’ silence passed before getting a message back. “There we go.”

Hannibal glanced at your phone. “What’s the plan?” 

“I asked Charissa to call me before she leaves for work at noon.” You said, putting your phone on the dashboard. “If I don’t pick up, she’ll send the address to Jack.” 

“That’s a true friend.” Hannibal raised an eyebrow. “Seeing that she didn’t even ask you why.” 

You put the car into drive. “I’m sure she already knows.” 

[scrawnydutchman]

The Wizard Shazam vs. Khonshu

In a merging of the DC and Marvel Universe, Khonshu, the Egyptain god of the moon, senses a new power of gods. But this power does not actually come from a god: instead it comes from a wizard, an acronym made from the names of the gods from the Greek and Roman Pantheon. Curious, he sends his avatar, Moon Knight, to find the rock of eternity and steal this power from the wizard’s champion Shazam and store it in one of Moon knight's ankhs. A battle ensues between Moon Knight and Shazam as Khonshu makes his presence known to the wizard at the rock of eternity.

Khonshu: So . . . you are the wizard with the power of gods.

Wizard: I am . . . and though I know of you, Khonshu, your power is not what I have . . .nor would ever want.

Khonshu: You think yourself above me, wizard?

Wizard: I do. I know of Marc Spector. I also know of Steven Grant and Jake Lockley. You’ve taken Spector as your champion specifically because he is damaged. Damaged enough for you to take control of. So desperate for redemption that he and his other selves will do anything you ask. You take advantage of the disturbed. You sicken me.

Khonshu: *laughs* You, of all beings, dare judge me wizard?! At least my champion is an adult. You elected a child to fight your cause for you.

Wizard: I had no choice. I wanted to wait, but--

Khonshu: You could have done precisely that. From what I see your world is in no shortage of powerful heroes; many of which not dissimilar to your . . . “Shazam”. 

Wizard: The same could be said of you, Moon God. The streets of New York in your world have more than their share of vigilantes. Why add another one?

Khonshu: Because none of those other vigilantes possess the will to do what must be done.

Wizard: You mean they won’t kill?

Khonshu: Yes. Either that or they’re too mad even for my liking. Like Frank Castle or Wade Wilson. Ones that disturbed are too much even for me.

Wizard: There we are again. You weighing eligibility for your champion not by virtue or strength, but by manipulability. We are nothing alike, moon God. I chose Billy Batson because he is pure of heart. Because he is noble enough to use my power responsibly.

Khonshu: Yes, well . . .  it seems you are not the most benevolent judge. Who was your champion before Billy Batson, hmm? It was Black Adam, wasn’t it? And look how that turned out.

Wizard: I admit, my judgement is not always keen . . .

Khonshu: That’s an understatement. Your idea of making up for that blunder is giving your power to a child instead. Enlisting a poor foster child to a war he is not emotionally prepared for.

Wizard: I need not justify anything to you, moon God. Especially since you are no stranger to past champions turning on you. Billy Batson has proven more than worthy of the power bestowed upon him. He is a beacon of light in this world plagued with sin. Your champion is nothing but a reminder of how bleak the world can be.

Khonshu: mmm. Hold on to your self righteousness while you can, wizard. When my champion harnesses yours’ power, he will deal out more justice and bring more good than your champion ever has. He will make those who harm travelers of the night pay dearly. Then your champion can go back to being a little boy, freed from the chains you bound him in. We will see how easily you judge then.

Wizard: That little boy is stronger, more resourceful and more clever than you know, Khonshu. Taking his power will not be as easy as you hope. Besides . . . I know you’ve been grooming Marc Spector for this role since his youth. You didn’t make any hard decisions as a desperate measure . . . you’re just selfish and petty.

Khonshu: Do not pretend to know the ways of a god far beyond you, wizard. You will be humbled soon enough.

[abraxos-the-phantom]

Scum Disciple Deleted

-scenes. Here you go @vodkassassin. Unformatted and mostly unedited save for some awkward phrasing I fixed as I skimmed through it. I have a habit of merely taking out scenes rather than straight deleting them when I don't think they work out so if you see it on the fic shhh I probably just found a better place for it, but for the most part I think these are unused

TLJ + MF; Flashback/Illusion

[Log: File:Save_??-???.?.????.log]

“You know, for a man so keen on maintaining the preference of a dignified cultivator, you are fairly quick to disband such things as you see fit,” Tianlang-jun mused.

Ming Fan threw a dirty look to the former Overlord of the Demonic Realm over his bowl of beef stir fry lily bulbs. It was a specialty in this region, boasting a sweet lily bulb due to the length of time the farmers around the area spent cultivating the plant. In other words, it was delicious and a welcome change to the guilt trip galore that was eating Lou Binghe’s cooking.

Oh to eat that delicious snow congee without feeling the compulsion to throw it all back up-

Well, no use dwelling on such things.

“Most of anything could be considered vulgar when in close proximity to you,” Ming Fan quipped, taking a generous helping of the stir-fry between his chopsticks. “If you had as much sensibility as you had sensuality, I guarantee that people would be more fond of you. Unfortunately, it is too late for me.”

“Hoh? Is that so?” Tianlang-jun’s lips curled in a smirk in spite of the fact that Ming Fan had no interest looking his way, regardless of the other demon happened to do. Some odd five or so years have taught Ming Fan that there were times when the best move for dealing with the other was simply ignoring him.

Ming Fan maintained his bland tone as he briefly paused to speak, “Yes.”

Tianlang-jun shook his head, “Honestly. Are all disciples of Cang Qiong like you, or are you just the special one.”

Said disciple only gave Tianlang-jun a significant dirty look, “You’d have to actually behave yourself to get to know another disciple of Cang Qiong.”

“Eh,” the Heavenly Demon leaned back against his chair with his hands crossed behind his head. “Too boring.”

Ming Fan made a noncommitting sound as he finally ate the last of his order, letting out a satisfied sigh as he leaned back in his seat.

“Ming Fan, a question if you are so gracious enough to grant me such a thing.”

Ming Fan only raised a brow, “You may ask, whether I answer is not on the table.”

“Why?” Tianlang-jun paused as he attempted to think about his question. “Why do you maintain this relationship of ours? It’s not as if you’re on any obligation to maintain basic relations for a political reason, and you hardly ask me anything so you aren’t after my wisdom. With Lou Binghe going in and out Cang Qiong Sect, it’s not as if I can threaten your Sect any more than I could try and fight with my son.”

Ming Fan crossed his arms, humming for a moment tilting his head just enough to convey thoughtfulness he turned to look the demon lord in the eye, “If you were to be confronted with a former enemy of a war without meaning, what would you do?”

Tianlang-jun hummed, “I wouldn’t care.”

“Exactly,” Ming Fan pointed out. “Now what would you do if you discovered you were on the wrong side of that war?”

“…I still wouldn’t care.”

“Would you?” Ming Fan hummed, “Well, that’s your choice.”

“So is that all? You pity me?”

“Not quite,” Ming Fan shrugged, idly arranging the finish plate on the table. “More like my recompense of sorts.”

Tianlang-jun’s expression was unreadable as he stared, quietly adding, “You realize that I’ve killed hundreds of cultivators like you. Your age, younger- older. It didn’t matter, they were obstacles in my path and I removed them.”

“Of that I do not doubt, but these days- the line between righteous and mad is thin,” Ming Fan snorted. “I stand at the meager in-between myself. But what else can I do? I am but a mere mortal, attempting to right his wrongs.”

Ming Fan took a final sip at his tea, “Sometimes, that is all one can do without going well and truly mad.”

Tianlang-jun chuckled, “I suppose that’s true.”

The hours seemed endless after that, a moment in time felt like hundreds upon billions as the two simply- existed.

“So,” Tianlang-jun said after an eternity’s moment. “What are you doing here Little Cultivator?”

Ming Fan blinked, “Is this not one amongst our many meetings?”

The world seem to blur around him like ink amongst a pool of water. Fading into implied images as the sky and trees distorted. The sounds of the earth quieted to a hushed whisper. Ming Fan’s eyes casted around in confusion as the lively village dulled into a dead silence.

“It isn’t,” Tianlang-jun leaned back, smirking. “You’ve spent so long with me that I am now here with you- in limbo. I’m flattered Fan-er.”

Ming Fan narrowed his eyes, scowling, before looking away, “Definitely. Tianlang-jun never called me that to my face.”

Ming Fan twisted away from the…demon for some time to think.

TLJ + MF - Actual Flashback

“You look like you went a round and three more with a golem,” Tianlang-jun tsked at him.

“Are you going to lecture me about coming out while I look like I lost against said golem or are you going to sit your ass down and have some tea like we agreed?” Ming Fan snapped, wincing as he sat.

Tianlang-jun whistled wolfishly. “Why, I never took that War God to be the kinky type.”

“Don’t be so obscene,” Ming Fan rolled his eyes. “He landed me flat on my ass almost a dozen times. Of course sitting down would be a pain.”

“You know there’s this flower that-“

“No.”

“But I hurt just looking at you,” Tianlang-jun whined like a particularly annoying brat. “One tiny little adventure to look for a flower that heals bruises instantly, it’s a Lotus of a blue hue, I hear those people from the far West have been using it for some time.”

“And then Liu Qingge will have me spar against him, again, and this hellish circle will repeat itself. I am only saved by the fact that my cultivation is not as advanced as one of a Peak Lords, otherwise I would be healed by the end of the week and my pain begins anew,” Ming Fan shook his head. “I appreciate your concern, I really do, but no.”

“Aww, well since you’re being so polite about it…” Tianlang-jun sighed and sipped from the tea. “Mn- this is good. Where did you get it?”

“Shang-shishu taught me how to prepare lemon tea before the fruits go out of season, apparently there is a sweetened-cold version of this as well, but he has yet to refine the technicalities of the ingredients. I worry for him, he always seems so busy.”

“He looks like a rodent who accidentally ate a pepper, though I suppose in this case it would be a block of ice what with Mobei-jun being his lover and all.”

“I did wonder how that happened, and worried a brief time. An Ding Peak’s disciples had said that their master would occasionally come home bruised and barely able to walk, they were rearing to go to war with the Northern Demons far before everything else happened.” Ming Fan sighed, “Well, it isn’t any of my business. I’m sure they’re dealing with the situation in their own way.”

“True that, those An Ding Peak children…physically they are weak, but it is always the weaker ones that surprise you the most. Especially when angry,” Tianlang-jun smiled as he mused. “Afterall, hornets don’t seem like much at first glance. That Mobei-jun has his work cut out for him, ah, speaking of. What of those two? Surely the boy is tip-toeing these days.”

“He tends to keep to the bamboo house, and we tend to stay far away from the bamboo house, especially at night.” Ming Fan raised his hand to drink. “That is all I will say of the matter.”

Ming Fan sighed, rubbing a hand against his eyes, “I am getting far too old for this.”

“Oh please, you’re not even a century old.”

“Hm, and yet somehow I am still significantly more mature than you. Have you reached the regression stage of life Tianlang-jun? I must say, I’m rather peeved that it’s a mental deterioration rather than a physical one for you demons.”

“Hoh?” Tianlang-jun leaned forward, smirking. “Wish to test how youthful I can be Little Cultivator?”

Ming Fan raised a hand idly pointing at the silks of Tianlang-jun’s clothes, startling the heavenly demon as he wondered just what the other had found on his clothes.

Then Ming Fan flicked up, hitting the former Demon Lord up the lip and under the nose, causing Tianlang-jun to recoil, sputtering from the unjust attack. The audacity.

“I’m sure you’d at least warm the bed,” He deadpanned, sipping at his tea without a care as Tianlang-jun sputtered indignantly.

NMJ/MF - Original Re-meeting for ch 52; added here for my convenience (cus i don't wanna make another post)

“Gather everyone who can fight!” One voice called. “Sect Leader Nie is being surrounded by a pack of hell hounds! They need help.”

Ming Fan was out and running before anyone could even blink- with only Liu Qingge and Tianlang-jun holding enough time to react by following him.

-

“Shit-“ Mingjue cursed, swinging around Bàxià to hurl one attacking hound over to the side. “Meng Yao- you alright?!”

“Could use-” Meng Yao grimaced as he had to back off to avoid the snapping jaws of another hound. “Some help.”

“Reinforcements should be on the way!” Mei Lin cursed venomously under her breath. “Just where the hell did all these damned dogs come from?!”

“We’re being overrun!” Lang Fengyi yelped as he narrowly avoided claws.

“Fuck-“ Mingjue gathered his energy, willing it to fill him once more. “Get ready to run! I should be able to distract them long enough to-“

“Don’t worry about that.”

The disciples of Nie turned to find a man arrogantly walking through the field, the hounds yipping in fear and running from him, as well as another man clad in white and silver who eyed the hounds back.

Tianlang-jun stood before the disciples of Qinghe Nie with a bright smile, “Relax now, everything will be fine.”

Liu Qingge huffed, drawing his sword, “Says you. We have to make sure he’s not overworking himself remember?”

There was a distant rumbling- an ominous presence that washed over them to the point where all the hounds began to shudder and shake in fear as they too yipped around fearfully.

Descend with great speed. Swift and merciless. Run my enemies. Leave none left alive. May death greet you well.

Formation formed.

Ming Fan dropped his sword with militaristic precision, tilting all the swords generated by his power towards the ground in varying angles.

Heavenly Wrath Formation.

Tianlang-jun looked up in the surprise, “Don’t tell me that’s-“

“It is,” Liu Qingge scowled.

“Who-“ Nie Mingjue began- before all hell broke loose.

Liu Qingge’s expression was thunderous as he swept past rows of demonic hounds, tilting on hand and waiting-

Another man dropped from the sky not a second later, catching Liu Qingge’s robes and righting him before swinging his legs on the man’s waist to get around and jab another hound in the back- Tianlang-jun was swift to join the fray, allowing the shorter cultivator to move around him to get at all the lucky hounds who managed to move away from Ming Fan’s deadly aim fast enough.

While Tianlang-jun added to the deadly partnership with his own flare, it was the pair of Ming Fan and Liu Qingge that showed the obvious years of partnership between them- for the two had years of spars and night hunts to guide their blades where they need be.

Heads flew, limbs joining them as the immortals of Cang Qiong Sect and Tianlang-jun of the Heavenly Demon Line slaughtered the feared and the rowdy- leaving those of Qinghe Nie in awe.

“..Wei…” Meng Yao said, knees beginning to grow weak. “Wei Fan?!”

The man abruptly froze, glancing towards their direction before seeming to move on instinct- the War God sensing the sudden change and using his arm to propel him outward, allowing the man to fly across the air and land his sword true through the skull of the hell hound that was just about to take a chunk from Nie Mingjue’s side.

Ming Fan, not upset as he was, barked at them venomously, “Just what do you think you’re doing?! Fucking move! You’re in a battle field! Fight damn you! Are you not of Qinghe Nie?!”

“Teacher Wei!” Mei Lin cried- openly actually, crying.

“Oh for the love of-“ Ming Fan cursed. “I’ll take your crying and yelling and cursing later, lift your sabres and fight!”

“Xiao-Fan!”

Ming Fan turned, grunting as he launched his sword in the Heavenly Demon’s direction and skewering the hound. “What?!”

“Lower your blood pressure!”

Ming Fan felt his blood pressure rise out of sheer spite. “Fuck you!”

“A-Fan,” Liu Qingge growled. “You just performed one of the most powerful formations while silent. Calm down.”

“I can’t!” Ming Fan caught himself with a scowl. “But I’m not upset!”

“For the love of-“ Liu Qingge turned to Tianlang-jun. “Can you handle the rest?”

“Yeah I got it,” Tianlang-jun batted away a hound with his bare fist. “Just take care of our pissed off little horse first.”

Liu Qingge wasted no time, grabbing the now fuming Ming Fan, his nose beginning to trickle with a line of blood and generally causing the already shocked disciples of Qinghe Nie to panic.

“Hey,” Liu Qingge’s voice was soft as it was firm. “Calm down. Calm. That’s not a request.”

“I’m trying,” Ming Fan hissed. “You try doing this in the middle of battle.”

“Alright back up plan,” Liu Qingge turned to the still shocked Nie Mingjue. “You. Make yourself useful. He needs a distraction.”

“Wha-“

Liu Qingge shoved Ming Fan into Nie Mingjue, the taller man abruptly catching the man by the waist to steady him before something else caused him to loose balance.

Forgot one: Deleted Extra feat. Yang Yixuan + MF; written with it's og formatting since notes preserved my italics somehow

Cold wind swept past the ravine.

Shaking trees and rustling branches provided the background noise for the twittering creatures who lived in the back mountains. Within this quiet land was a surrounding of high elevation mountains spanning all around the mountain side.

There, Ming Fan sat quietly. Watching the creatures bellow- there were no humans for miles save for those few people within the Ancient Sect, and they were hardly just human anymore.

“So, you’ve finally decided to get off your ass.”

Ming Fan stiffened.

Yang Yixuan’s arms were cross across his breast, idly looking down from the view of Qing JIng Peak.

The landscape had changed much since Ming Fan had last come here, it was greener. With the trees far taller than when Ming Fan had last seen them, the older trees cut down by the ravages of war and time- but new ones taking their place. The silence too, was new. With no disciples Cang Qiong Mountain was a far quieter place than it had been during the height of its Sect Years. Some ascended, some peacefully settling into their next life, and some sticking around. Going to and fro the place carrying out errands and enacting a firm hand where the average Cultivator could not handle. The war had put a damper on such things, what with their stance of neutrality, bu it was no less somewhat of a sobering surprise that those of Cang Qiong Mountain had seen what was happening and judged it would be better to remain quiet.

He knew why of course, it was more practical in the long run for a mythical Sect, they were not here to force the future into their own hands- merely to counter the monsters of the yester years. Still. He wondered.

“You’re thinking so loud I could practically here it,” the former head disciple of Bai Zhan peak, the former Peak Lord himself, continued with a raised brow. “You’re normally quick to empty your mind and dump it onto others.”

Ming Fan scoffed softly, “Normal is a poor basis to use to pass judgement at the moment, even a Bai Zhan Peak buffoon like you should realize such.”

“…”

Ming Fan pursed his lip, anger simmering.

Settle.

Settle.

Settle.

“I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.” He said softly, allowing his fist to slack from their death-like grip.

“You just lost your brohter,” Yang Yixuan said bluntly. “You were a raving asshole when Liu-shifu dragged you here. Pretty much spat at Luo Binghe’s feet and insulted just about everyone.”

Ming Fan restrained the urge to flinch at every word.

“I’d be more than a little troubled if you didn’t act like that after losing your brother.” Yang Yixuan continued with a shake of his head. “It’s good to know that our illustrous Ming Fan is still a human.”

“Have I not proven that time and time again?”

“Dunno,” Ming Fan turned his head, the Bai Zhan Peak’s former sole disciple’s voice turning uncharacteristically soft. “You were doing a pretty good impression of acting like an immortal before.”

[facioleeknow]

Time for love ° Hwang Hyunjin

Snippet of my upcoming fanfiction, it is available fully on my Kofi otherwise it will be posted on tumblr in five days on the 1st of april.

TW for the snippet: Greek mythology au, adonis!hyunjin, model!hyunjin, make up artist! reader

tw for the whole fic: smut (more detailed warnings will be posted with the whole fic), angry hyunjin, borderline asshole hyunjin, emotionally constipated hyunjin

My Kofi <3

Hyunjin was old. Hyunjin was really really old. Eternal youth they called it. When one thinks about youth, they imagine freshness and fun; a colorful, colorful phase when you get to try new things and explore the world. Hyunjin’s life was anything but; he had seen every corner of this earth and tried every experience that was humanly possible. His life was flat and gray, there was nothing more to do and he was bored.

He remembered his first life. His name was Adonis and he was considered the most beautiful man in the whole world; he was so beautiful that goddesses soon appeared on his doorstep and asked to share his bed. That’s how his story became myth, or what people thought it was.

He had lived many lives from then, he had taken many names and done many things, he lived a tranquil life and minded his business; had sometimes taken a couple of lovers but nothing that had stuck to him. 

His life and pattern of change had come crumbling apart when one day the gods decided to come out in the open and introduce themselves to humans. With time everything was uncovered and the protagonists of every myth became their own kind of celebrities. He had never been more famous in his life, but he also had never been more lonely. He was beautiful and that was a fact, and with the fame came the modeling offers. He modeled for the most famous maisons of fashion of the world and people loved him. No they didn’t love him, they loved his body, they loved his face, they loved his fake smile and fake confidence.

His days were always the same, he would wake up at an insane hour, get on set, get ready, shoot, get unready, check social media and then go to bed, just to do it all the following day. Day after day the cycle had never been broken, for years on end. Until it had.

When he walked inside the photo studio, he could sense something had shifted in the air. He hated changes. A heavy hand smoothed back his unruly hair, his eyes closed almost on instinct after he sat down in his makeup chair. He had requested a special chair, made of one of the softest furs he had ever touched, where he could sleep and relax.

Something warm and small suddenly touched his shoulder, hesitantly. He hissed and his eyes shot open, his staff knew better than to interfere with his pattern. 

His breath hitched in his throat when he opened his eyes. This wasn’t his usual make-up artist.

“Sorry to disturb you Mr. Hwang, I am Y/N L/N, your new makeup artist,” your voice was sweet, way too sweet to be human, but he knew all deities by heart. Perhaps some kind of creature.

[collecting-stories]

Tears Won’t Cry - c. 07 - JJ Maybank

Summary: You and JJ have sex for the first time and you hear something you’d rather not.

A/N: This chapter clocks in at a whopping 5.8k...I took some serious time with it so I hope you guys like it and, as always, thank you for reading. 

You Are Ok Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

✞ We’ll borrow happiness just for the night ✞

The more you thought about JJ’s offer the more tempting it seemed. Doing chores around the house, cooking, doing lessons, practicing piano for church, it didn’t matter what you were doing, that little voice in the back of your mind crept in, telling you that going with JJ would be the ultimate freedom. You wouldn’t have anyone telling you what to wear or who to talk to or what to do. 

Your mom would tell you that was the voice of the ‘enemy’, the great evil that had turned Eve from god and caused immeasurable destruction. Every time the outside world came a little too close to the bubble your parents had created your mom claimed it was the work of the devil, persecuting her for her beliefs.  

And didn’t Jesus spend forty days and forty nights in the desert resisting temptation from the very same devil? Hadn’t you been brought up in the church, taught the way of the Lord and encouraged, every day to resist those temptations that threatened your way of life? But here you were, spending every waking moment consumed with the idea of JJ. Maybe Jesus had survived out there but you were sure you couldn’t, not having been with JJ the way you had.  

The one cardinal sin of your family, maybe more than anything else, was premarital intimacy. Sex was supposedly only good if you were married and then only intended for reproduction or for pleasing a husband. It was, according to both your parents, the most sacred part of yourself that you could give away. And even with the amount of thought you had given it, the careful consideration of your feelings and your future, you imagined burning in a holy fire or turning to salt like Lot’s wife were the only options left for you if you ever told them that you had given that part of yourself to JJ.  

-

You had mulled over the decision for three nights, had even considered praying about it though you were sure that wasn’t the sort of prayer you addressed to God, but on the fourth night you were certain. Sitting there on the non-bunk bed in your room, listening to the sound of the faucet running as JJ brushed his teeth. You knew nothing about flirting techniques or subtle seduction...you really didn’t know anything about sex at all. Your approach so far, with every part of your relationship with JJ, had just been straightforward.  

So, you were straightforward again. When JJ came out of the bathroom, shutting off the hall light and leaving your door slightly cracked the way you had told him you liked it to be, you sat up more against the head board, “I think I’m ready.”

“For?”  

“For...us to have sex.” You stumbled over the words, sounding less sure out loud than you were in your head. You knew this was what you wanted; JJ was what you wanted. Even if you loved someone else someday down the line you wanted this moment to belong to the two of you.  

“Right now?” JJ asked, hand still on the door knob.  

“Well. I don’t really know how to initiate sex so…whatever you usually do.” You replied shrugging your shoulders.  

JJ let the door stay open, leaving it to cross the room and sit down on the side of the bed. You moved closer to him, sitting sideways and letting one leg hanging over the edge, toes brushing the cold hard wood as you stared at each other. Maybe that was all that would happen, you would stare for a while, both too unsure to make the next move, until finally just resigning yourselves to sleep. JJ had always been confident in bed but this was different, everything about it felt like he was treading in uncharted territory, emotionally there was no way back from this once he jumped off the cliff.  

He  brought his hand up to your cheek like he’d done a thousand times before, leaning forward to kiss you. He could taste the floral chapstick you had on, a little tacky against his own lips as his tongue ran across your bottom lip. You had kissed before, made out with him pretty heavily, and though you still felt timid about somethings you tried to push that aside, shifting closer to him while breaking the kiss, biting his bottom lip as you did, JJ’s eyes opening for a second in surprise. The surprise gave way to pleasure as you kissed his neck, nudging the collar of his shirt out of the way with your nose in an attempt to access more skin.  

“Here,” Eager to witness you in charge of this moment, JJ broke away to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it across the room. You smiled, a quick kiss to his lips before you were back to his neck and shoulders, the skin there tan and freckled from the sun. JJ hooked his hand under your thigh, pulling you toward him until you got the idea, hooking an arm around him for stability as you straddled his lap.  

You resumed your work, alternating between leaving light kisses over the freckles on his shoulders and bruising the skin around his collar, gentle first and then eager and insatiable. Your other hand rested against his abs and you could feel his breaths under your touch, heavy and impatient. You were too afraid to ask him if anything you were doing felt good because you were afraid it didn’t. You knew you couldn’t kiss him forever but you would’ve been happy too, his skin was warm and when you scraped your teeth against his collar the moan he let out sounded heavenly. You could’ve listened to him for an eternity.  

JJ caught your face in his hands, kissing you again and then leaning his forehead against yours. He liked you in control but right then, “can I?” He asked, one hand going to the hem of the shirt you were wearing for bed.  

“Yeah,” you weren’t entirely sure how to proceed anyway, you were happy to let him lead. Before he could pull the shirt off, you let your leg drop off the bed, finding solid ground and stepping backward off his lap. JJ pouted, grabbing at you but you backed out of his reach. You gripped the hem of your shirt, keeping eye contact with JJ as you lifted it over your head, dropping it down by your feet.  

You had imagined plenty of times that the first time you would ever undress in front of a guy it would be on your wedding night and it would be a dress that they were unzipping you from. Instead, it was an old gray t-shirt with a pun about Jesus on the front that your brother Robert had gotten at a youth retreat. Nothing special by far. But JJ looked at you like you hung the stars. He reached his hand out, grabbing yours and pulling you back to the bed. He stood you between his legs, hands on your hips.  

“You alright?” JJ asked, looking up at you and smiling, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips. He was sitting there, staring at you almost entirely naked, standing in front of him and he felt like his mouth had gone dry. Frozen in some form as just the person who gets to look and he knew what a momentous thing that was for you. Just to let him see you this way.  

You nodded, resting one hand on his shoulder, the other cupping his cheek and he turned his face into your palm to kiss you. The confirmation that you were okay and that the look in your eye was one of complete desire and love was the only motivation that JJ needed, pulling you into his lap again, his hands running up to your waist to hold you as he brought both of you further onto the bed.  

In the prelude to sex JJ had plenty of opening lines, commentary on how hot a girl was or how she made him feel but as you kissed him again, twisting off his lap so your back was on the bed and you guide him on top of you, it all felt indescribable. JJ settled for an “I love you,” whispered into your skin as he pressed his lips to your collar, one hand moving up the expanse of your stomach while the other held him over you.  

“I love you too,” your response sounded breathless, a result of JJ’s trail of kisses down to your chest. His right hand groped your right breast, thumbing brushing over your nipple repeatedly  as his mouth closed the other one, pressing his tongue flat against it. The sensation was enough to have you squirm under him, tensing slightly, biting down on your lip as you griped the shorter hairs at the back of his head.  

He pulled away, the cool area of the room chilling you as he switched his concentration, kissing just below your breast before his mouth to the other, hand moving to hold your side as you moaned at the feeling of his mouth on you. “Your so sensitive,” JJ commented, tone conveying the awe he felt as he continued to lavish your breasts with attention.  

JJ kissed you like it was an art form, like you were something delicate and he wanted to take his time to savor every part of you. His mouth moved across your stomach, kissing parts of you that you harbored insecurities about. He stopped his appreciation of your body when he reached your underwear, resting his chin on your stomach as he looked up at you. Waiting. He’d moved himself almost off the bed, halfway to a kneel your legs hanging off the bed on either side of him. You pushed yourself onto your elbows, looking down at him as he smiled at you.  

“This is what you want?” He had to be sure, wanted to hear you tell him you wanted him as much as you trusted him, as much as you loved him.  

“Yes.” You felt the rush of a chill down your spine as JJ kissed the inside of your right thigh, his fingers slipping around the hem of your underwear to pull them down. Nothing spectacular, in fact-

“It’s not Thursday,” JJ laughed, reading the printed text on the front of your underwear. A gift four years ago, you still retained half the collection.  

“Saturday sort of, got ruined by an early period.” You laughed, lifting your head up again, “is there usually this much talking during sex?”  

“Shush,” JJ teased, nipping at the sensitive skin below your stomach. Though he didn’t say it then, any girl he’d been with before had kept themselves some level of shaved but you had obviously never felt the need to. It was no real difference to him, or so he discovered as he kissed the insides of your thighs again. As he did he pushed your legs a little further apart slating them on either side of his shoulders. You were still propped up on your elbows, watching him in fascination. No one, yourself included, had ever touched you like JJ was.  

The most comprehensive sex education had skimmed over details of actual sex, promising that your future husband would know your body well enough to teach you about it on your wedding night. If Timothy had even crossed your mind while this was happening, you certainly wouldn’t have drawn any conclusions to him being this skilled.  

You moaned unexpectedly, surprise laced with something else, something far more primal as JJ parted your lower lips, middle finger gently running up your slit, coating it in pre-cum, ghosting a circle around your clit. Your right thigh brushed his arm and moved onto his shoulder as the minute sensation had you trying to close your legs. JJ leaned his head against the same thigh, turning just enough that he could brush a kiss against your skin.  

“I got you.” He promised.

As he continued, thumb brushing over your clit as he worked in slow circles, savouring the moment, hyper aware of every twitch, moan, or movement of your body, you fell back off your elbows. You laid flat on your back, hands gripping at sheets as JJ fingered you. He picked up the pace of his thumb, pressing a little harder as he did, his middle finger slipping back into your entrance, the movement slow but still making you jerk slightly, pressing your heel into his back.  

“It’s okay,” JJ shushed, kissing you leg down to the apex of your thigh, “your okay.”  

You hummed in response, in no position to use any actual words. He slipped his middle finger further inside, slowly letting you adjust to the feeling. JJ had never been this careful during sex but couldn’t deny that it was arousing in itself, taking his time, focused solely on the way you felt and not some endgame-moment-of-ecstasy. He added another finger and you squeezed your eyes shut, tensing at the feeling for a split second but it left just as quickly as it came.  

JJ was off his knees, hovering over you, kissing your nose and then your mouth. “It’s okay,” he promised, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you were already breathing heavy, eyes fluttering open just enough to look at him. JJ’s expression softened as he moved again, hooking an arm around around you and helping you sit up, pressing his lips to your forehead.  

“Not tonight?” He asked, before you could even form the words. He climbed onto the bed more so he could sit you in his lap, grabbing his discarded shirt and pulling it over your head as you caved into him.  

“I thought I was ready.” You admitted, wrapping your arms around him, “I just-“  

“It doesn’t have to be right now…it doesn’t even have to be soon. Whenever you’re ready.” JJ replied.  

“Yeah but what about you?”  

JJ shrugged, “I’d be happy with whatever you’re willing to give me.” He admitted, “it’s not…I mean you said yourself, sex is something really important to you and, I like having sex but it’s not like that for me so…I can wait. I’m not going anywhere. You should feel like it’s what you want it to be.”  

“Can we just lay here for a while?” You asked, shifting so you could move up the bed to get beneath the covers. JJ followed suit, letting you get between him and the wall.  

With the covers up around the both of you, JJ laid on his side, head propped propped on one hand while you held the other, fingers twirling the bracelets on his wrist. A familiar one stood out, buried under intricately knotted friendship bracelets, the neon green peeking through. You pulled at it, revealing the black ichthus that was stitched onto the cheap plastic thread.  

“This is mine?” You almost laughed, holding his hand closer to your face to get a better look.  

“I know,” JJ admitted, “I stole it the first night you let me in your room. I saw it on the desk and took it.”  

“I’m not sure a WWJD bracelet is something you would need to consult on a daily basis.” You said. Of all the non-Christian people you had encountered in your seventeen years, JJ was the furthest from the church you could think of.  

“Why, what does it mean?” He asked, pressing his nose against your jaw, kissing the underside of your chin.  

“What Would Jesus Do.”

“See,” he teased, “I thought it meant ‘what would JJ do’.”  

“I think that would be WWJJD and no one would want to take that advice.” You replied, letting go of his hand to pull him into a kiss.  

JJ hovered over you as you deepened the kiss, one hand at the back of his head, keeping him close as you imitated his earlier actions, tongue running across his bottom lip. You grabbed his free hand, resting on your hip, and dragged it up, pushing it under your shirt and onto your stomach.  

“Can we see where this goes?” You asked, pulling away enough to look in his eyes.  

“Anything you want.” He promised.  

JJ’s movements were as slow as they had been last time, concealed now by the blanket that was over the two of you. He stayed close, where you could see him, kissing your neck, collar, face, lips, as he slipped his fingers into your still slick entrance.  

You moved your hands down to the waistband of his shorts. He’d changed into a pair of basketball shorts to sleep in, easier access than the cargo shorts he had on earlier. When your hand slipped past his waistband he pressed his face into your neck, his fingers stilling for a moment inside you.  

“I should tell you, I have no idea what I’m doing,” you mentioned, voice still breathless.  

JJ was tempted to tell you that it wouldn’t take much for him to lose it. “You don’t have to do anything,” he replied, kissing your throat.  

“I’ve never actually seen…” you trailed off, flustered at the thought. “I mean, in a textbook.”  

“This is the hottest pre-sex talk ever,” JJ teased, enjoying the way your breath hitched when he pulled his fingers out again, “someday, I’m gonna make you cum.” He said.  

Your eyes widened as he licked his fingers, smiling at you as he sucked them clean. JJ flopped down next to you, pushing his shorts down without any care in the world. You covered your eyes with your hands on instinct almost and JJ laughed, grabbing your wrists and pulling your hands down to his mouth so he could kiss your palms.  

“Come here.” He instructed, guiding you to straddle him, watching as you sat over his thighs. “Let me show you?”  

This, JJ decided as you wrapped your hand around his cock, thumb smearing pre-cum at the tip, was arguably the hottest thing he’d ever done in his life. He closes his hand over yours, guiding you as you stroke him, your eyes focused on the way his body responded to you. JJ’s chest and face were flushed red from arousal, his own eyes trained on you as he tried to keep his control over the situation. He didn’t want to spook you again, wanted to keep you comfortable. He had never been one to tap out early when it came to sex but he wasn’t sure how long he would truly be able to last. The condom that he’d found in his backpack after you told him you wanted to have sex and he went digging sat on your bedside table and he reached for it now.  

When he was sure you were ready, he moved your hands to his stomach, telling you to brace yourself on him. You followed his lead as you sat up onto your knees, one of his hands gripping your waist as he guided you down on his cock, the stretch of your walls around him lessened from the angle. You moaned at the feeling of him, short breaths filling the air as you gripped his sides.  

“Fuck.” You whispered the curse word, only the second time you’d ever said it though for a reason just as fitting as the first. You couldn’t think of many others that could’ve described the feeling you were experiencing.

There were a million things JJ wanted to say as he stared up at you, a thousand emotions pressing against his chest, each more in love with you than the last. He would’ve frozen this exact moment if he could’ve, just stayed like this for an eternity because how was he supposed to see you get engaged to someone else after this. Before he could get too in his head you shifted your weight forward, rolling your hips and lifting yourself up just enough that when you came back down, walls clenching around him, JJ’s hips jerked up and his hands gripped your hips tighter, fingers digging into your skin.  

“Shit, holy shit.” He muttered, coaxing you to repeat the motion. You steadied yourself with your hands on his chest, rolling your hips again. “Just like that.” The third time you tried it JJ’s grip didn’t let up, instead he took the lead, picking up your pace for you. Once you seemed to catch up to the rythmn of his movements, trying your best not to overthink anything and just focus on him, JJ dropped one of his hands. You jerked at the feeling of his fingers pushing passed your folds, thumb finding your clit again and rubbing against it.  

“Oh my god, JJ,” you moaned at the feeling of him overtaking your senses, your stomach tightening as he thrust his hips up to meet you, almost falling out of the rythmn he’d been keeping as you crested, orgasming first. Loud and panting, your hand slipped and you almost collapsed on him, the shifting angle and the way you clenched around him sending him over that edge with you.  

-

It hadn’t felt anything but natural when it happened and with anyone else you didn’t think you would’ve felt as comfortable with yourself as he made you feel. JJ didn’t rush, he wasn’t impatient or self-serving. You’d read once, in a book you read sequestered in the library away from any eyes that might recognize you, about a rather steamy romance. The book was trash but you remembered that feeling of utter confusion as you read and re-read the line about feeling ‘worshipped’. How could any one person worship another?  

The question answered itself in the way that JJ held you in the afterglow. And the pure, unadulterated bliss he felt when you placed kisses along his jaw, punctuating them with reminders of how much you loved him. He’d stayed with you those four days and at the Chateau before that, only a minute bruise near his hip still evident from the last time he was home and when you asked about it he claimed it was a surfing injury.  

“She loves you,” Kiara had argued when he told her that he had no intention of telling you about his father. He could see, in a way, why your parents wanted to shelter you. They were just trying to keep you safe, to shield you from all the unsavory parts of life and he, in that same way, for that same reason, couldn’t bring himself to tell you about his dad.  

“She won’t love that.” He was resolved to his decision. If he didn’t tell you than things could keep on going exactly the way they had been.  

But it wasn’t his dad, in fact, that had any bearing on the course of things. Meeting up with each other once your parents were home returned to be a Olympic-level obstacle. You swearing that you were headed to Kiara’s for a ‘bible study’ and promising to be home before dinner, walking instead in the direction of the Chateau.  

JJ wasn’t there yet when you knocked, John B answering the door instead. “Hey, I didn’t realize you were coming over.” He greeted, stepping out onto the patio with you, “this doesn’t bother you, does it?” He was referring to the fact that he was shirtless and you shook your head.  

“It’s fine, I mean, it is your house.” You shrugged, sitting on the arm of one of the couches. You loved hanging out with Kiara and Pope, they didn’t just feel like JJ’s friends but yours too. There was just something about John B, you could never quite get there with him.  

“JJ said your parents were out of town last week?” He asked, “Figured that was why it was so quiet here.”  

“Yeah I borrowed all the loud energy for a few days,” you laughed, “it was nice though, getting to spend time with him without having to sneak around the island.”

John B nodded, walking across the small space to look outside. He paced back over to the other couch, taking a seat on the arm, mirroring your position. With your back to the screen you couldn’t see JJ approaching the house and later it was obvious that was John B’s intent all along. “Look, you seem really nice and I don’t wanna hurt your feelings, I think you’re a really cool person,” he started, pausing at the right spot to build anticipation.  

“But?” You asked. You missed the sound of JJ’s boots on the steps for the creaky nature of the floorboards when John B stood up.  

“But he’s only dating you for a bet. Sarah bet him $200 he could get you to sleep with him.” He replied, the sound of the door slamming open the perfect punctuation to the sentence.  

“What the fuck John B!” JJ snapped, tackling his friend into the couch you were sitting on the arm of. You jumped, stumbling back a few steps, eyes wide as JJ punched John B in the ribs, pinning him down to the couch. The whole thing felt like it was playing out in slow motion but sped up at the same time. When John B finally managed to shove JJ off of him, throwing the blond to the floor, you snapped out of whatever trance it had ensnared you in.  

“JJ!” You said his name before he could even get himself back on his feet and both boys looked at you. “Is it true?”  

JJ stood up, grabbing his hat off the ground and clenching his fists around it. When he paid John B back it had been with the implied understanding that no one outside of their circle ever needed to know about the bet. Pope had urged him to tell you, insisting that maybe you would understand. But it was far too late for that. The bet was that the two of you had sex and you had and knowing about the bet did nothing but cheapen the moment.  

“Is it true?” You repeated, trying to hold tears at bay as everything felt like it was crashing around you. This was exactly why your mom believed so strongly that the outside world was innately evil.  

“It wasn’t that simple-“ JJ started to say but you cut him off.  

“Yes or no?” You snapped, voicing raising more than JJ had ever heard, even when you were freaking out over lunch with Timothy’s family, “is John B telling the truth?”  

“Yes.” JJ sighed, running a hand through his hair. You backed away from both of them and turned, pulling the door open and running down the steps. “Fuck,” he cursed, taking off after you. He called your name but you didn’t answer, going along the path he’d shown you between your house and John B’s. The moment you hit the yard he stopped, he couldn’t follow you there, as if the ground was poisonous to his touch. It was a natural repellent and he stood at the edge of the tree line, watching you head inside.  

Minutes. It took minutes, and John B deciding to be an absolute asshole, to completely pull apart the only actual relationship he’d ever been in. He wanted nothing more than to go back to the Chateau and beat the shit out of John B until he felt better but he knew, in reality, that nothing was bound to actually make him feel anything but completely broken. You were gone. JJ changed course, heading instead to Heyward’s.  

He had told Pope, while both of them were in the kitchen at John B’s, that he had slept with you for the first time. Kiara had told him, because he had blabbed to her too, that virginity was a social construct.  

“You shouldn’t make such a big deal out of it.” She’d insisted.  

“It is a big deal Kie, to her. It’s a huge fucking deal.” He had argued.  

But none of that felt like it even mattered cause he had fucked up so badly that he wasn’t entirely sure how to fix it. He could certainly chance going to your house but he didn’t want to show up too soon. If you needed time he wanted to give that to you, whatever you needed, so long as, in the end, you believed him when he told you that it was all just a mistake. The bet, not you.  

-

Kiara called JJ that night, you had come by her house after dinner, after asking your parents if you could sleep over, and apologizing for showing up at all. “I know this is shitty to do to you, JJ’s your best friend, I just…don’t have other friends to go to.” You had all but cried when Kiara hugged you, pulling you into her house.  

You certainly couldn’t call any of your siblings, even the ones you were closest too would not be understanding. All they would see was a girl who broke her vows to the church by dating, by having sex, by lying and tricking your parents. There was no possible way that anyone in your house or your family or even anyone in your church would understand your decision to, in their minds, turn your back on God to be with a boy. So you went to Kiara’s and hoped that she wouldn’t turn you away. Whatever the bet with JJ was, you felt like Kiara was a friend, someone you could count on more than anyone else in your life right now.  

“You can come over anytime, about anything.” She promised.  

“I just feel so stupid,” you confessed, sitting on the bed in her bedroom, drinking a seltzer from her secret stash behind her desk. Losing your virginity, getting drunk, crying over a boy, you’d hit all your milestones in a week. If you were sober, if you weren’t so upset, you would be able to look at it for what it was but instead you stuck in this place, grieving over something you thought was so real. “John B said it was all just a bet.”  

“What did JJ say?” Kiara asked. She knew about the bet but had felt like it was JJ’s place to tell you. Obviously, he had not.  

“That it was, that John B was telling the truth.” You replied, taking another sip.  

“Maybe you should talk to him?” She suggested. It  was a tricky line to walk down but Kiara didn’t want you to give up on JJ. She knew he had feelings for you. “I’ve been friends with JJ for a really long time, I’ve never seen him like this.”  

Kiara had known JJ since middle school and she’d watched him, since then, go through different relationships, if they could be called that. Dates required more effort than he was willing to give when they expected the same attention that he paid to his friends, quickly altering the way he approached relationships until they were just hook-ups. Just short lived moments, half the time too drunk to remember. He flirted, an empty gesture that compensated for his need to be physically close to people without him having to seem clingy.  

“I just don’t know why he didn’t tell me.” You cried. “No wonder my parents never wanted me to date, it hurts so much.”  

“I know,” Kiara lamented, crawling across the bed so she could pull you into a hug, your head resting against her shoulder as you continued to cry. It was like an endless sadness, you couldn’t imagine recovering from.  

It was when you finally fell asleep, exhausted from crying and almost entirely drunk, that Kiara finally called JJ. She left you tucked in her bed, going into the bathroom and locking the door as she sat on the closed toilet to call him. It was nearing three in the morning but he answered anyway, immediately asking if she had heard from you.  

“She took off toward her house and it’s not like I can call her or something. I followed her to her yard but I was worried her parents would see me.” JJ had hastily explained. He’d thought about going back later but when he did your mom was in the yard and he didn’t want to chance it.  

“She’s here.” Kiara replied, voice low so her parents did come snooping when they heard voices. Her mom had been dying to get some kind of gossip out of you when you first showed up.  

“John B told her about the bet.”  

“Did you explain that you gave the money back?” She asked.

“I…I just kinda got into it with John B.��� He admitted. “In my defense though, she didn’t let me explain!” He knew it wasn’t your fault, you were upset, but thinking that it’d been him, by proxy, that had hurt you like that had his stomach turning.  

“I’m pretty sure finding out that the first guy you’ve ever dated or had feelings for was using you for a bet would be kind of traumatizing JJ! She doesn’t really wanna talk to anyone, she barely explained what happened, she just keeps saying how stupid she feels.” Kiara replied.  

“I just need to talk to her.”  

“Maybe just, give it some time?” She suggested.  

“I don’t have time.” JJ replied, pulling at strands of his hair as he combed his fingers through it. “She’s eighteen in a week. Her parents set her up with this guy from Tennessee and she’s going be engaged on her birthday. I can’t let her go through with it.”  

“That’s part of her life JJ, I mean, that’s what her family believes-“

“She deserves more than that!”  

“And you can provide this? I don’t wanna be that bitch Jay but, seriously? You can provide something for her that’s better than, at least, some security. Something worth giving up her entire family for?” Kiara asked. She knew she sounded awful but she couldn’t help questioning him. The last thing she wanted was you trapped into a life you didn’t want but JJ playing like everything would be rainbows and good times if you left was impractical.  

“I have a plan.”  

“And what exactly, is that?”  

“Look, I don’t fucking need you getting all high and mighty!” JJ spat, pissed as it was. Kiara had the nerve to tell him not to make such a big deal about sex but she could turn around and bitch him out for wanting to ‘interfere with your life’. He knew she was just trying to be a decent friend to you but he didn’t want her input, he just wanted her to put you on the phone.  

“You’re playing with her life here Jay…if she chooses you, if you apologize and she gets back together with you…she will never get to speak to her family again. Is that what you want?” She questioned, “to have her ostracized from her family.”  

“I want her to be happy.” JJ replied, “and to know that none of this was fake.” 

-

taglist: @stevie-buck @bijleegiregi  @vitaminekabc @minigranger @teamnick @just-smile-darling @obxsummer @damonsalvawhore27 @isqbella @tomzfrog @fangirlvoice @phantompogues @98starkeys @ilovejjmaybank @lemur46 @khiaraaa-in-spacee @babygal-babygal @niya-savage @divvrx @princess-of-the-fandoms @thecaptainsgingersnap @jenjie @yourprincess-maybe @wowmaybankk @heavenlymama @vindictive-hearts @alexa-playafricabytoto @dontjinx-it @randomficsandshit @niamhobrien @strangerthanfanfiction713 @tovvaa @freckled-and-daydreaming @harleylynn @bibliophilewednesday @dpaccione @bolaurel @poguestyleskye @beautyandthebleh @under-a-canyon-moon @outrbanks @mendesmaybank @thehomeiknow @minnie-bby @katiaw2 @2kayla64 

[mimiwrites2000]

Blue Meeting Blue

AO3 ~~

Pairings: Armin x Annie

Side Pairings: Jean x Pieck / Gabi x Falco:

Words count: 2010

* spoilers for ending of  manga

inspired by this fanart by Bella (_superspicy on twitter)

Summary:

When Annie looked in his eyes, the world stopped spinning, time froze, air halted. The waves in the ocean quietened, the forests' rustles ceased, and the wind subsided. For a moment, peace engulfed the world, the chaotic place wrapped in a fragile silence.

To witness the blossoming love in the youthful hearts.

the day of their wedding was finally here, Armin and Annie, the world waiting for them, and they were ready to face it, as one.

Husband and wife.

a one-shot about Aruani wedding, based on fanart by Bella (_superspicy on twitter)

His heart drummed in his ears. The lump in his throat enlarged into a coarse rock, impossible to swallow. His throat tight on his windpipes he could barely breathe.

He tried to compile the tips he read a few days earlier; deeply breathing and a smile.

He failed miserably at both.

“Armin?” 

He brushed his suit.

“Armin?”

He shifted his weight from one feet to the other.

“Armin!”

“Yes!” Armin jumped, searching around him, catching a few glances from the small crowd.

“Why are you not responding?”

Armin turned around and-

“Oh, Connie, I’m sorry, I’m just- you know, I was just-” Armin shook his head, waiting for Connie to somehow decipher the concoction of words he threw at him.

“It’s ok,” Connie chuckled, running his hand up and down Armin’s back, “it’s your wedding, it’s ok to be nervous.”

Armin thought about it for a moment, clicking his sharp crispy shoes on the wooden floor: “I’m not… I’m not nervous…”

“Excited?” Connie retorted, raising an expecting eyebrow at Armin.

At that, Armin blushed.

“Oh come on,” Connie laughed, nudging Armin, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Armin turned around, combing his hair down with his palms, his eyes scrutinizing the invited. Less than twenty people seated in rows, the joyous anticipating guests shifted in their seats, smiling at Armin and waving. The humble place densed with close friends and family. As ambassadors, their compulsory position obliged them to have another big, huge wedding, inviting the allied nations and every political face ever. A just-for-show kind of celebration, glazed in fake smiles and formalities. Armin and Annie had an innate dislike for these occasions. But they would have to do it either way. For now, they would live every moment of this homely, small wedding. 

They didn’t go venue hunting. Historia offered her own warehouse (that was attached to her farm house) to hold their wedding; they couldn’t say no to that. 

The warehouse transformed into a cozy, traditional hall, rows of velvety pink chairs aligned in straight lines, breaking in the middle to form a path overlayed with a shiny white carpet, leading up to where Armin was waiting. White flowers decorating the humble place, with golden fabric draped in soft curves. It gave off the family atmosphere Armin and Annie strived for. 

They couldn’t have it any better.

Gabi and Falco settled in the last row, Falco shamelessly and most likely unaware of himself openly-swooning over Gabi, both in summer outfits, Gabi’s dress flowered from the top to the bottom, Falco clad in a brown modern suit. Gabi was either oblivious to Falco’s hypnotized state, or she acted oblivious. Armin decided it was the latter.

Jean was sitting beside Pieck, facing away from each other. Armin sighed, they probably got into another fight. Since they started dating two years ago, their relationship had been on and off all the time.

Armin moved on, but the movement of Pieck’s hand took his attention. Slowly, she slithered her hand next to Jean’s, touching it slightly… a moment passed, before Jean sighed, intertwining their fingers.

Armin couldn’t stop the smile pulling at his lips.

A few seats next to them sat Reiner, his mom by his side, passionately whispering something in his ear. Reiner looked so out of it. 

When Reiner noticed Armin’s eyes, he smiled, paying him a small wave, with a gesture to his ring finger.

Ah

His mother’s whispers were nothing but pestering him about when he’ll get married. Armin laughed, shaking his head.

Armin’s eyes halted on the first seat at the far right, where his childhood friend sat, clad in a crimson red dress, her hair touching her shoulder, a dust of make up adorning her face. Mikasa smiled at Armin, a proud smile. The proud-mom-smile she wore whenever he did anything she was proud of.

She was proud of everything he did, every single thing he did since they were only nine.

He waved at her, she nodded in response.

He could never forget Mikasa’s reaction when he told her he would propose to Annie.

The tears, the hugs.

Happiness overflowed out of her.

But soon enough, they both crumbled on the floor, hugging each other, sobbing, lamenting whispers escaping them. Eren’s name slipped every now and then.

Armin swallowed, looking at his feet. The bitter sweet roughness of that night would remain in his mind for as long as he lived.

Someone joined the seat beside Mikasa.

It was Hitch.

Gorgeous.

Armin thought. She did look so pretty, her hair slightly curled, in an off the shoulder navy dress that overflowed in a soft skirt.

She waved at him, he smiled and nodded.

Then she winked, raising her thumbs.

Armin furrowed his eyebrows. He didn’t understand, but nodded anyway.

Connie was having enough of Armin’s ignoring game; he cleared his throat and said: “Hey, by the way, how did you ask Mr. Leonhart for his blessings?”

“Oh, uh, well…” Armin started, flashbacks of that day at the forefront of his mind.

Even though they had been engaged for over a year, Armin still remembers that day as if it was yesterday.

Well…

“Well, he said that if I don’t treat Annie well, he will take my life with his own hands,” Armin said, shrugging his shoulders, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“What?” 

“Yeah, I mean, it was easier than I thought, if I’m being honest with you.” 

“Oh God.”

“No it’s not that shocking, besides, he supported me and Annie from the beginning,” Armin replied.

“I can’t believe it,” Connie’s eyes fixated on a spot behind Armin.

“Well, I don’t know what you exactly think of Mr. Leonhart, but-”

Connie clicked his tongue, pointing behind Armin.

Armin turned around and-

It was her.

“Annie…” he whispered.

Standing there, arms tangled by her father's.

A simple dress, a peasant dress; puffy sleeves with ruffled edges that beautified her updo hair. Pastel pink contouring the dress’s folds, adding a variant of flowery accents to it. A tight brown bodice hugged her waist, making the flowy skirt finely pleated into cascading silky waves. Something about it reminded Armin of a field of pink flowers in a spring afternoon.

The slight blush on her cheeks, her bangs framing her face, boldening her beauty.

The memory of gazing at a crystal in a cold basement from a few years ago struck Armin.

But the cold was replaced by warmth.

A warmth that traveled from Armin's toes to the tip of his nose, a feeling he never experienced before. He wanted to scream, jump in his spot, like a toddler in a candy store, but he also wanted to hug himself, cage himself in a corner, and cry.

When Annie looked in his eyes, the world stopped spinning, time froze, air halted.

The waves in the ocean quietened, the forests' rustles ceased, and the wind subsided.

For a moment, peace engulfed the world, the chaotic place wrapped in a fragile silence.

To witness the blossoming love in the youthful hearts.

The warmth reached Armin's eyes, his sight blurring.

His lungs caught fire, and despite feeling suddenly hot, his hands were freezing cold.

A thousand thoughts swarmed his mind in the short period of Annie walking up to him. It took approximately a minute, perhaps two, but for Armin, it felt like eternity. A labyrinthine he was very willingly getting lost in.

When she reached him, at the altar, not a single breath left him. His sight was blurry and eyes burning. His whole body shook with every sob he tried to suppress.

Someone held his hand, Armin looked down, and through his blurry eyes, he saw Mr. Leonhart’s gripping his hand, his hold a bit tight.

Mr. Leonhart took Armin’s hand, raising it. In his other hand, he held his daughter’s hand.

He guided Annie’s hand to Armin’s, placing them on each other, before clasping them in his strong grasp, holding them for a while. He looked at Annie, nodded at her with a smile, before he turned his gaze to Armin.

Mr. Leonhart leaned towards Armin, whispering in his ear: “I would kill you.”

Armin laughed, though his mouth opened but no voice came out.

Mr. Leonhart descended, walking to his seat, dabbing at his eyes.

At that moment, Armin’s world muted into a deafening, incomprehensible line. He took Annie’s hands in his. His eyes went up, from their intertwined hands, up to her collarbone; she wore a simple necklace, a small, silver circular metal hanging from it.

To anyone who wasn’t familiar with Annie, it looked like a normal necklace. 

But it wasn’t.

It was her ring.

Her infamous ring.

Armin’s wandering eyes reached Annie’s.

Blue meeting blue.

And that was the last trigger.

Sobs escaped Armin’s lips. He cried, tears flowing and cascading on his cheeks. He didn’t want to cry, it made his eyesight blurry and he wanted to see Annie clearly. He brought his elbow to his eyes, wiping his tears, only for new ones to flood.

He tried to stop them, gritting his teeth, biting at the inside of his cheeks, squeezing his eyes shut.

He couldn’t, all his attempts leading to more sobs and tears.

Warm hands on his face made him flutter his eyes open. With a handkerchief, Annie softly dabbed at his cheeks, a smile small on her lips. Her eyes were glistening as well.

Armin focused on her eyes, and slowly, took deep breaths.

Sobs subsided, and tears stopped streaming down his face, clearing his vision.

She cupped his face in her hands, and brought him down, capturing his lips on her own, a quick kiss, lingering for a bit. Armin kissed her back, closing his eyes briefly, before she pulled away. She pulled far enough to look into his eyes, but close enough to feel his breath on her face.

“Ahem ahem.”

Both almost jumped at the sound, turning their heads. The priest stood there, a smile on his lips.

Only then did Armin and Annie realize that the small crowd was giggling.

“You jumped off a few steps there,” the priest said, nudging his head towards them, eliciting extra chuckles from the crowd.

Armin pressed his lips, looking at Annie. She was already looking at him, her lips pressed as well. They exploded in a fit of laughter, before they calmed down, and the ceremony went on.

From the priest’s concise sentences, Armin presumed that the priest knew that Annie and him couldn’t wait to get married.

Rings slipped in their fingers, in their left hands, so smoothly, as if they were always meant to be.

Armin’s heart beating faster as they tiptoed closer to the ending of the wedding.

“And now,” the priest announced, taking a step back, “you, Armin Arlert, may now kiss the bride!”

They held each other's eyes, before Armin wrapped his arm around Annie’s waist, pulling her closer to him, and kissed her.

They kissed many, many times before.

But that kiss felt different.

Their first kiss as husband and wife.

Armin pressed his lips against Annie’s, feeling her heartbeat against his own wild one.

Cheers and claps erupted from the crowd, quiet sobs mixing with them.

They pulled apart, fighting against the magnetic force drawing them together.

Armin held Annie’s hands in his, running his finger on the ring, glistening in the light.

Annie was his, and he was hers.

“My husband,” she whispered, her voice an inch from breaking into tears.

An involuntary smile pulled at Armin’s lips, before he leaned towards Annie, resting his forehead on hers: “My wife.”

She shook her head, rubbing their foreheads together.

“My wife,” he said again, “my wife,” his voice getting louder, before he turned to the crowd, lifting up their intertwined hands victoriously in the air, screaming out: “my wife!!” 

Laughs and more claps burst, guests standing up in the process.

As the bride took the groom’s arm, the newly married couple made their way, taking a new step in their lives, together, forever and ever. 

.

.

first time writing a wedding, well, that was a wild ride hahahaa

I tried to write the feelings I got when I first saw Bella's fanart, I hope I got them right! this was a sudden one shot that I'm so glad I gave a shot and wrote, it was a very blessing experience thank you so much for reading!! If you guys liked this, I might write a second chapter but from Annie’s pov, sooo tell me what u think uwu aaand of course, any feedback is much appreciated!!

[fallingstarnovel]

Chapter One

Evan Golightly didn't consider himself an unlucky kind of guy. It wasn't like he was wandering around winning the lottery, but he also wasn't getting hit by chunks of blue ice from the sky from a passing airplane.

This week was just like every other week he had experienced so far. As he walked to his lecture across the university campus, he saw the same people he usually did and went to the same places as always. He didn't step on any cracks in the pavement, and he didn't walk under any ladders. He didn't find any four leaf clovers either, and he didn't have a lucky rabbit's paw on his key chain. He had a coffee cup in his hand – medium sized, not big and not small. 

He was a little late, because he had stopped to pet a black cat that lay on the pavement in front of him, but that was okay. The lecturer was very forgiving, and most people were a few minutes late anyway due to a clash in timetabling. 

Evan couldn't remember if seeing a black cat was good luck or bad luck. As the kitty purred and rubbed itself up against his fingers, he couldn't help but smile and talk to it quietly.

"Oh, you like that? You like the scritches? You're so handsome, such a handsome boy..."

Someone behind him coughed disapprovingly. A little embarrassed at getting caught, Evan straightened up and kept walking, forgetting all about whether black cats were lucky or not. 

As he approached the building where his lecture was held, Evan started climbing the concrete steps up to the entrance.

If luck could be charted on a bell curve, with some people being extremely lucky, and some being extremely unlucky, then Evan considered himself to be slap bang in the middle. If he entered the lottery, he might win one of the smallest prizes, but not very often. If he got onto a crowded bus, there would be a seat available, but not a very good one. If he chose answers at random on a test, he would get a 50% grade at the end. 

There was a meow from down by his feet. The black cat was following him. It had big green eyes which were staring at him as it meowed again. 

"I'm sorry, I would love to play with you, but I'm late," Evan said. He knew the cat didn't understand, but he still felt like being polite. 

The cat meowed very loudly and then started walking in between Evan's feet as he climbed the stairs. He started to worry that he was going to trip, slowing down and trying to shoo it away with his foot. It meowed again, but ran away, standing at a distance and staring at him. 

Evan had always been weak for cute things. He bit his lip. "Ahh, I'm sorry! Wait until my lecture finishes, I'll come back and give you scritches then!" 

He was almost at the top of the stairs now. Evan turned away from the cat – only to see a small black shadow out the corner of his eye down by his sneakers. He felt something brush against his leg, and then he tripped over something, and before he knew what was happening, he was falling backwards down the stairs. 

Evan let out a sharp cry, his arms windmilling around him as he went into freefall. 

Not the stairs... not the stairs! This was why he hated stairs! He always knew they would kill him one day! 

Before he could fall any further and roll down the stairs and smash like a boiled egg, he felt someone grab his arm and hold him still. His bag hit the ground and his coffee cup went flying, bouncing down the steps and spilling coffee everywhere, but Evan...

Evan was being held up at the top of the stairs by a strong, sure grip. 

He looked around in surprise. Holding his arm was a smiling youth with curly blond hair, tumbling in cherubic whorls around his ears. The youth looked just as shocked, his eyes big and wide as he stared at Evan. As he stopped Evan from falling. 

There was a moment of silence. The youth pulled Evan forward onto the flat ground at the top of the steps, and let go. 

"You..." Evan said in a rush. "You saved me! Thank you so much, I thought I was a goner..." 

The youth hesitantly smiled back, his eyes flickering down the stairs. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, I just tripped on a–" Evan said, gesturing to the cat. 

The cat was no longer there. It had disappeared. 

"... Huh. Guess I tripped on nothing. Um, thanks. Oh, man, my coffee..."

The youth picked up Evan's bag and handed it over to him. His eyes were wide, like he was recovering from a sudden shock. "Sorry. I'll buy you a new one."

"Don't worry about it, it was my fault," Evan said with a laugh. "I owe you for saving me. I should buy you a coffee!" 

The youth looked at Evan. He couldn’t help but notice that his eyes were light grey, bright and cold, crinkling at the corners in a warm smile. "There's no need to thank me. You don't owe me a thing."

Evan had heard those two sentences before many times in his life. He had heard it from friends who had done him a favour, and from customer service workers who helped him get a discount for his broken laptop, and from the nice woman in the corner shop who sent his mom flowers when she heard his grandfather had died. 

They had always been said with varying levels of sincerity. A lot of people said "no need to thank me", but secretly wanted to be thanked very much. If you didn't thank them, they wouldn't help you in the future. People were weird like that. 

But when this guy said it, for some reason Evan understood that it was the absolute truth. Like it wouldn't matter if Evan thanked him or not – he would still help him. 

Feeling a little flustered, Evan scratched the back of his neck. "Well, I have a lecture now, so I better... uh, you're sure you don't want a coffee afterwards?"

The youth seemed to think about it for just a second too long, before shaking his head. His smile was apologetic. "It's fine. Enjoy your lecture." He started walking away. 

"Ah, uh, you too," Evan said in a panic, before quietly smacking his own face. He had no idea if the guy even had a lecture. Stupid, stupid, stupid... 

The youth came to a stop. He slowly turned around, an angelic, apologetic smile on his face. "Actually, I'm a little lost. Could you tell me where room M42 is?" 

"That's – that's where I'm going now! That's where my lecture is!" Evan gave him a wide grin. "Astro 228, right?"

The youth nodded. "Right."

"Just follow me, then. Huh... I didn't know we shared a class, sorry I didn't recognise you!"

"That's okay," the youth said quietly from behind him as they entered the lecture building together. "I tend to stay quiet." 

Watery winter sun did its best to shine through the floor length windows of the lecture building. It shone off the back of Evan’s pale neck, the black hair that fell in every direction. It reflected off the otherboy’s grey eyes, making them seem more luminous, more pallid, as they watched Evan with keen, unwavering interest.

Evan walked slightly ahead to lead the way. "Well, I definitely won't forget you now. You saved my life! What's your name?"

The youth was quiet. Evan waited for an answer for an uncomfortably long time, before wondering if he had spoken too quietly. He was about to repeat the question when a soft voice from behind him said "Ruth."

Ruth? Wasn't Ruth a girl's name? Was this guy actually a girl? "Oh, Ruth? Ahh, that's a cool name."

"You don't think it's weird? That a guy has a girl's name?"

Oh, thank god, he didn't have to try and subtly ask awkward questions about pronouns. Maybe the guy was used to this kind of thing and anticipated the awkwardness. "No, I don't think so. As long as you like it, then that's all that matters. I'm Evan by the way." 

The youth hummed. "I know." 

Now Evan felt guilty. He didn't even remember seeing this guy around, but he remembered Evan's name. Ah, this was too bad. He would definitely make an effort to remember him now. "Well, here it is. Just in time–"

"Actually, you go ahead," Ruth said suddenly. "I need to use the bathroom."

Evan turned around and blinked at him. "Oh. Sure. I'll see you in a bit, then."

The youth nodded. He hesitated, before speaking again.

“It was nice to talk to you.” 

He gave Evan one last beatific smile, before walking away and disappearing around the corner. Evan quietly let himself into the lecture and scurried to the back, mouthing "sorry" at the lecturer, who ignored him. 

He made sure to keep the seat next to him free for Ruth even as other students trickled in. 

The lecturer coughed several times to get the attention of the class. 

"So, last week I opened the lecture with the following quote: God does not play dice with the universe. This is oft quoted and attributed to Einstein himself in a letter to a friend criticizing what he saw as the unacceptable flaw in quantum mechanics, that is, the possibility of unpredictable random events on a molecular level. In many ways, he was right. We have been learning how to chart the movement of objects in a vacuum – predicting the orbits of distant planets and stars around the insatiable black holes that are, themselves, in a perpetual state of movement. I know that most of you have grasped the basics of this particular module very quickly. Predictability is a magnetic lure – one gets lulled into the false sense of security knowing that we can work out the trajectory of some far flung meteor to a high degree of accuracy. As if space can be imagined as some unfathomably large clock, each cog in place, every heavenly body caught in an eternal, rational, predictable waltz to the swing of a baton that, if only we have the numbers, might one day understand the rhythms of. If you turn your attention to the notes we made on how you can work out the speed of rotation of a planet..."

Evan tried very hard to concentrate and make notes. There was always a buffer at the start of the class where this particular lecturer went on a long tangent about random things he thought were interesting, and he usually zoned out through them, but once the actual maths was brought in, there was no possibility of daydreaming and letting it slip by. If you missed anything, you ended up being more confused down the line when the more complicated stuff got brought in. 

The poor girl next to him was doomed. She fell asleep almost immediately, and Evan lit a candle in his mind for her. RIP your grades, you snoozy bitch. At the same time, he was envious. Why couldn’t he take a nap instead of doing work?

He tried to concentrate, but all through the lecture, Evan couldn't help but keep looking at the doorway, wondering when Ruth was going to appear. How long did it take to use the bathroom? Did the poor guy have a stomach upset? 

By the time the lecture was over, Evan had accepted that Ruth wasn't going to appear. He lit a candle in his heart for the guy's bowel system. Clearly, he had been having some kind of toilet trouble and decided to skip the lecture. 

What a shame. He seemed so... interesting. 

After the lecture was over, Evan slowly clambered out of his seat. The lecturer had set a bunch of exercises to do at home, and the library was calling for a study session. Time to shuffle into Tesco to get a £3 meal deal and sit down for several hours to pound his brain into submission! 

"Hey, Evan," someone called out as they left the lecture. "Evan, wait up!" 

There was a girl chasing after Evan. She had warm brown skin and an infectious smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement. 

"Oh, sorry Aliya," he said, slowing down so she could catch up. "Did you enjoy the lecture?"

Aliya pouted. "No, are you insane? Enjoy it? Why did I do an astrophysics course again? There's so much maths. I genuinely think I would drop out if I didn't think my mum would kill me."

Evan nodded in agreement. "Sometimes I think about switching to an art degree instead. I won't do it. But I just think about it sometimes."

"Wait, wait, I wanted to ask you something," Aliya said, slapping his arm lightly. "House party. I've been invited, but I don't want to go alone. It's a bunch of people I don't know very well, and..."

Evan rolled his eyes. "If you don't know them, why are you going?"

"Because I don't know how to say no!" Aliya moaned. "It's a pretty casual thing, don't worry. You know I don't drink, so I'll probably be dipping early. Please? Please please please? Please just come for a little while, just to keep me company..."

Evan wasn't a prude. He liked a good party. The thing was that he liked a good party with people he knew. "And I don't know anyone there?"

"Probably not, they're all from netball club. But hey – you'll know me!" 

"I don't know you. Who are you. Why are you following me."

"Evaaaaan. Please! I'll do anything."

There was a long silence as they exited the lecture building together. Evan watched the students stream out of the building on their way to other classes, or the library, or their rooms to go back to sleep. 

He wasn't exactly great at making friends. Aliya was the only person on his course that he talked to regularly. It was why he was pretty excited to get to know Ruth, except he disappeared, so that was a bust. He tried a few clubs and societies, but none of them had really clicked so far. 

He hadn't been to a party in ages. He was wasting the best years of his youth in university, and he wasn't even going to parties. What was the point? He was living like a grandpa and he was only twenty one! 

He wasn't an old man yet! He didn't have a pension! He still liked electronic music!

Maybe this was the chance Evan needed to make new friends. How hard could it be? 

"Sure, why not." 

Aliya cheered. "Yay! Thank you, big guy. I owe you one. Oh, wow, watch your feet, it looks like someone spilled their coffee down the stairs... haha, poor them..."

Contents | Next Chapter

[honestsycrets]

A Distraction I: Poppy Seed | [ Hvitserk x Harem Girl!Reader, Oleg x Reader ]

❛ pairing | hvitserk x harem girl!reader, oleg the prophet x reader

❛ type | multi

❛ summary | oleg wants to keep hvitserk's lips loose and mind distracted. he thinks women, drugs, and alcohol should do the trick.

❛ tags | dub-con because inebriated hvitserk, poppy seed effects aren't exactly realistic in causing premature ejaculation, trickery, nsfw, ivar is an ass in this one. 

❛ sy’s notes | It feels like its been months since I’ve written Hvitserk. Ivar doesn’t like her; not completely sure why. 

The sway of the wooden door woke you. Your heart lurched into your throat as you realized that Oleg the Prophet’s booming steps were headed in your way. The candles flickered in a low burn, rivaling the hearth that warmed your nude body.

“There she is. How are you? Are you sore?” Oleg asked, narrowing his eyes on you rather than the other two women there. The others had been sent away to a party he held for his faithful men last night. He held new things in his arms. A beautiful headdress dripping temple rings, a weighted necklace, and long graceful skirt. It hadn’t escaped you that he had no top in his arms that night. “I was rough with you girls tonight. I will make it up to you. I’ve brought you gifts.” 

You rolled your swollen lips in, before popping them back out. “I’ve become accustomed to the abuse.”

“Good. You are a good girl; never questioning me. That is why I have a task for you. I want you to keep him distracted.” 

“Who?” 

Your question resulted in a small mincing smile. You took the gold from him: whoever he meant to impress must have been important. The headdress was elaborate, dripping down your long hair in the back. It matched a necklace that served as a top and a long flowing silken skirt that was should be nothing but a laugh. 

“You’ll know him when you see him,” Oleg explained, clipping in thin cloth of a veil to mimic chastity. You settled your bracelets and arm rings in their place. He took two steps around you, thumping in his boots to seize your shoulders. “He is… comparatively unimportant. Even so, I need his lips loose and loyalty swayed. Make him feel good. I know you know how to do that.”  

That’s what women are good for, he whispered in your ear, distractions. As if your life on the slave trade had taught you anything but. His hand shifted up from your shoulders to your neck, resting against the mark of a slave. His thumb presses on the mark, while the other hand came hard on your bruised ass. A cry rocked up your throat that you bit back down. 

He smiled deeply, “You can do that for me, can’t you?” 

After four quick racing heartbeats, you nodded. 

“Yes Prince Oleg.”

If it was the cripple, you weren’t sure you wanted to do this work. After all: you had seen her handmaidens shooing Ivar into a certain room with Oleg’s attention squarely on the harem girls. Katya and Ivar had sex in no low frequency. If it was him, you knew that you had nothing to offer Ivar that he did not already have.

Oleg said he was comparatively unimportant. It couldn’t be him. Ivar was important to Prince Igor. He was a witty warrior, a strategist, and a good man. You moistened your lips as you sat with poppy and long hair tumbling down your shoulders in wait. Whoever this man was: he would you hoped he was distractible. “Prince Hvitserk,” Oleg’s chest rattled into laughter. A prince? You shifted your kohl lined eyes toward the man and moistened lips painted a lascivious red. The man in question had hair that shone with blonde sheen and eyes bluer than you’ve seen amongst the harem girls of China, Persia. He’s beautiful. A Viking. You heard of them, seen them, but never this close. “Trade has given us many beautiful things. I would like to share them with you.” 

Oleg’s eyes flicker over toward you. He was right. You knew it was him. 

“Come! This is one of my concubines,” Oleg extended his hand out. You lifted up the end of your dress with smoked poppy in the other hand. You wish that he had chosen someone else: Liahua or Sareej: someone, anyone other than you. Hvitserk shifted his elbows off his thighs, pushing himself upright as you cut between his body and the table. You set the poppy seed down.

“She is pretty,” Hvitserk says curtly. 

“Isn’t she? Feel her breasts. She’ll let you,” you sunk to your knees before him. A jingling alerted you to another woman joining the table. “Go ahead.” 

“No I, I don’t--” Hvitserk stuttered, his head turning one way; then another; and eventually to where you were unlacing his trousers. Hvitserk’s hand froze when your mouth made contact with his semi-hard cock. You’ve seen the Vikings that came into Kiev and wondered how they differed from but never had this opportunity-- belonging to Oleg presented its own complications. “Hngh.” 

Oleg reclined back to watch, catching Hvitserk in his panic. “Don’t tell me a Viking like you doesn’t enjoy women.” 

“That’s not it. You’re--” watching. 

“Relax. What is pleasure among brothers? Smell this.”

Poor Hvitserk, your tiny fist pulled his hardening cock. His hand set upon your head, stroking through your soft veil. He’s soft. “No-don’t--” it’s not you he’s talking to this time. You carry on your work. It’s not your fault he couldn’t say no but against yourself, you know it’s your fault for weakening his resolve. 

“It’s poppy seed.” 

His hand falters upon your head and falls away. Your lips pop off the rim of his dick, Hvitserk’s body swaying with an inarticulate complaint spilling off his lips. Oleg was staring at you with his eyebrows pushed together, a sardonic grin rupturing his features. His black eyes gleamed with excitement as he bore at Hvitserk’s throbbing pink cock. A bead of moisture formed at the head and as you stood tall, Oleg held a hand up to you. 

“I’ve never seen you ride a Viking before.” 

He couldn’t have conformed even if he wanted to. The scent of the drug was strong, causing Hvitserk’s shoulders to slacken hard. Your sister-concubine moved aside as you reached for a pot of warm oil, coating Hvitserk’s shaft with an obscene wet squish. You niggled your way out of the thin skirt and stepped over Hvitserk’s thighs, angling his head with your sodden hole. You sunk onto him, resisting the stretch that filled your body with pleasure that hinged on pain. 

“Look at you,” Oleg prompted your attention. “So full.” 

“Fuck,” Hvitserk made a noise you couldn’t understand, hazy and thick. You like to think it was pleasure as your hands settled over his shoulders for some anchorage. You couldn’t be sure, rolling your hips onto his lap to take him in and out of your body. Hair thwapping your low back, Oleg found himself laughing at the pleasure building in Hvitserk’s features. Hvitserk’s useless hands clawed for control at your hips: despite the fact that they were very, irrevocably out of control. 

“He likes it,” Oleg clapped his hands together. He reclines back onto the bed and calls for another concubine. You want to ignore what is going on, forming a deathgrip on the russet cloth covering his shoulders and doing your work. Your hips fell upon Hvitserk in a constant rhythm, squeezing him for emphasis. Your body jingled with coin, a thin film of sweat coating your skin from your work taking the Viking. Distantly you heard Hvitserk grunt and felt the warmth spilling through your pussy. 

“Did he come already? Inside of you?” Oleg threw his head back, seized in laughter that Hvitserk wasn’t there to hear. He was somewhere else; distracted by smokey haze and wonderful pleasure that at the least caused his hips to push up in pursuit of the last whisps of pleasure. You shrugged the scratchy veil back over your shoulder and stand, leaking his seed down your thighs. Oleg clicks his tongue, “He did! You see that Sareej? He can’t hold his seed.” 

She ruptures into giggles. “I saw!” 

“Take him away!” 

You don’t have appropriate clothing. In Oleg’s words, it didn’t matter. Everyone knew you were a whore. You covered your breasts in a cloth that exposed your midriff and rushed to take Hvitserk to his rooms with the prayer that Ivar the Boneless would be busy with Katya as he so often happened to be. Your mind was alight as you set him in his bed with the blinding certainty that you shouldn’t be here. But if you went back to Oleg, you knew what was waiting for you and that might have been worse. 

He wouldn’t remember, anyway.

He shouldn’t have taken that poppy. 

He woke with memory of what had happened: the warm mouth wrapped around his cock and the light in Prince Oleg’s eyes. The excitement that sat behind his words of pleasure. How did he end up here? Perhaps it had been a guard that brought him back. He closed his eyes and dreamed of a distant home when he turned over and met the sudden reality that he wasn’t along anymore. By contrast, the warmth of your figure in his bed shook him into disquiet. Your eyes bore into him with intense expression. Hvitserk seized the knife under the blankets, drawing it to your neck in one smooth motion. 

“Who are you?” 

“Just a slave,” you spoke smoothly. “I brought you back from Oleg’s harem.” 

“You’re that concubine from before,” Hvitserk retracted his blade and tucked it under his pillow. He smiles at you in a deprecating but knowledgeable smile. You want to speak up; tell him the truth. Except you did not care for the hard truth of telling him what you had really done in his haze. “Of course. I must have fainted. I was in the world of the gods with Idunn.” 

“Idunn?”

“Our goddess of eternal youth. She was so beautiful with blonde hair like the rising sun. We had sex until the very dawn,” he set his hand to his bed sheets and propped himself up to sit on the side of the bed. He angles to look at you, flicking his tongue at his upper lip. “It was a good dream.” 

You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him the truth. A Viking like him? He didn’t need to know the whole truth of what occurred; how Oleg had used him for a show.

 “What are you doing here?” 

“I didn’t want to go back.” you spit out, finding the words dancing on the tip of your tongue. Hvitserk’s room was suddenly tiny and hot as if a great hearth waged within it. You couldn’t breathe, and yet your hands were clammy and wet. “Oleg is insatiable. He’ll want sex. He is… rough and I am sore.” 

An awkward quietness followed. Not the dreamlike vision of Idunn and her apples but the harsh reality of a concubine’s life. Being one of Oleg’s concubines meant that you must do things. Things like what you were attempting right now. There’s a knock at the door before it pops open. You recognized that man who walked in with a stab of a creaking crutch.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have stayed.” Your jewelry jingles as you moved toward the edge of the bed. Hvitserk stops you with a hand to your belly. 

“No, no. Stay. There you must be tired. He is just my brother.” 

Hvitserk turned toward the door, narrowing his eyes at his younger brother that came in. Ivar wrinkled his nose at the sight. It wasn’t often that you felt shame; but something in Ivar’s words settle low in your belly. “I see you’ve had your fun.” 

Hvitserk looks toward you, fixing your veil and minding golden jewelry. “Oleg is treating me well.” 

“I can tell,” Ivar stews on whatever harsh words he came here to spew. “Giving you whores to fuck frustrations into. It’s special treatment, Hvitserk.” 

“Don’t talk about her. She is a slave,” he gestures. “She has no choice.” 

You can’t handle it anymore. Not with the knowledge of what you’d done to Hvitserk under Oleg’s words or the judgement that Ivar carries: despite not knowing you at all. He had always been kind toward you. Never an awry word until today. Ivar holds onto his crutch, turning his sardonic eyes to focus upon you alone. “Then let’s talk about you.” 

“Oleg must be missing me,” you gesture, setting your hand at your bare midriff and smiling at Hvitserk. He sets his fist down on the bed, pushing himself up with a word of complaint brewing on his tongue. “I told you--” 

“I will see you again,” you told him. Despite his hateful words, Ivar bows at his waist in some mockery of respect. “Oleg’s whore.” 

You rush out. Ivar doesn’t like you; you don’t blame him. If he knew what you’d done, you shudder to think of what his knives would have done at your throat. You don’t wait around to find out why. 

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[dangermousie]

2020 End of Year Post - kdrama edition

You can find my 2020 cdrama post here: dangermousie.tumblr.com/post/638449659546845184/2020-end-of-year-post-cdrama-edition

This is only going to cover kdramas that aired in 2020; if it originally aired another year, it’s not on this list.

It’s been a pretty lackluster kdrama year. There are probably only 5 kdramas I truly loved and only three of them I was really obsessed over. Better luck in 2021!

DRAMAS WATCHED

(In order of liking from least to most as opposed to pure quality; I am including if I’ve seen enough to make up my mind; yes I realize that’s inaccurate, but that’s my list)

42 Born Again - so bad, so incoherent, so insane, I have no idea why the leads signed up for it (and unlike some of the other watchers, I think it was awful from the very start.) There is literally nothing about this drama that makes sense.

41 Love with Flaws - a bunch of people who should be tried under the Geneva Convention.

40 Sweet Munchies - Jung Il Woo proves his inability to pick a functional script.

39 Meow the Secret Boy - if you ever wanted to bang a cat, this drama is for you. Not being a furry, however...

38 Do Do Sol Sol La Sol - I lost braincells just typing out this title.

37 When I Was the Most Beautiful - the only way it’s not the dumbest, most pointless melo of 2020 is because Born Again considerately came out the same year.

36 Woman of 9.9 Billion - if you want to watch an artsy French movie about miserable people, but only badly made, boy do I have a drama for you.

35 Lies after Lies - screams after screams.

34 Backstreet Rookie - people were up in arms about various problematic plots. I am a survivor of many plots much more problematic but even I couldn’t survive how utterly boring and annoying this drama was and how utterly irritating the leads were. This has taken Ji Chang Wook off my top favorites into “should I even check his latest Lovestruck in the City? Probably not” territory almost single-handedly (Melt Me helped, to be fair.)

33 Men Are Men - boring is boring.

32 Dinner Mate - two beautiful boring people eat out a lot.

31 Was It Love - no it wasn’t.

30 Alice - Joo Won in the shower can make up for a multitude of sins but not plot nonsense of such magnitude. When you find yourself thinking it would be better if he hooked up with the alternate universe version of his mother because at least then something entertaining would happen, you know it’s bad.

29 More than Friends - started out OK, then made me hate basically everyone and kept going.

28 Start-Up - honestly, it’s probably more decent than its place here, but the toxic and batshit fandom for it (the worst this year) made me feel like breaking out in hives any time it’s even mentioned.

27 The Spies who Loved Me - how to take a good cast and waste it.

26 Private Lives - it was good but it never took off with its concept and spent more time on the incoherent plot than the OTP which was its one strength. It’s a decent drama but coming after Heartless City and My Beautiful Bride from the same writer, it’s a disappointment.

25 Record of Youth - as high as it is due to Park Bo Gum hard carrying this entire awful drama on his shoulders and doing it so well I finished it. Alas, while he is in one drama (and that drama is great), the rest of the characters and the entirety of the script are a pointless useless mess.

24 Do You Like Brahms - excellent first third, mediocre middle, and terrible last third. I don’t know what musical term applies to this? Diminuendo, I think.

23 I’ll Go to You When the Weather is Nice - nice and mellow but nothing much happens.

22 Forest - mainly for Park Hae Jin’s excellent and frequently naked bod.

21 The Ballot - I didn’t love it as much as everyone did but it was well-made.

20 Hyena - more romance and less weird law stuff would make it better.

19 365 Repeat the Year - surprisingly solid.

18 The Game Towards Zero - see 365.

17 When My Love Blooms - very old fashioned, very lovely.

16 Chocolate - also very old fashioned and very lovely but also with Yoon Kye Sang performing medical procedures bleeding and shirtless. MMM.

15 (tie) Secret Royal Inspector - a fun if run of the mill sageuk.

15 Find Me In Your Memory - best melo this year.

14 Mystic Pop Up Bar - surprisingly good even though I wasn’t planning to check it out.

13 Where Your Eyes Linger - came out of nowhere but was tender and hopeful and lovely.

12 Itaewon Class - Park Seo Joon hard carries a drama that is already excellent. Love it.

11 Psychopath Diary - Yoon Shi Yoon is such a treat in a hilarious, cynical, dark comedy.

10 Kairos - more like ouroboros.

9 Queen Love and War - in a year where sageuks are very rare, this was solid and surprisingly moving and shippy.

8 The King Eternal Monarch - people didn’t like it but I did. It’s no masterpiece and both the leads and the writers have better dramas, but it was a lovely romantic fairy tale for me.

7 Mr. Queen - sharp, hilarious, and some of my favorite actors.

6 Psycho But It’s OK - healing, sharp cinematography and even sharper chemistry.

5 Crash Landing on You - the last ep pissed me off so much this drama is dead to me but I loved it so much until then I can’t place it lower in good conscience.

4 Train - who knew I would go this hard for an OCN drama or that OCN would do romance so well? But this time-travel mystery romance is just incredible and I shipped the OTP and rooted for the characters and loved every last bit of it.

3 Run On - this is the drama Record of Youth wanted to be but failed. Smart and lived in, you feel like you are peeking at real people, but also even four episodes in, I am so invested in the main characters separately and together, and care for them so much, it’s a little frightening.

1 (tie) Tale of the Nine Tailed - my perfect fantasy romance. I liked it better than Goblin, yeah I said it.

1 Flower of Evil - all the tropes I love in one incredible package. I would rewatch episodes waiting for new ones trying to puzzle the story and to stay withdrawal but it works just as well on rewatch. Lee Jun Ki brings his trademark tortured intensity and for once, both his leading lady and his script back him up and are worthy of that. It’s perfect.

FAVORITE DRAMA

It’s a tie between Tale of the Nine Tailed and Flower of Evil but if I had to pick just one, FoE, because it had me seriously obsessed and guessing about the protagonist and gave me the narrative tropes I love so much and an OTP that statisfied all my hurt/comfort kinks and then some.

WORST DRAMA

Born Again - honestly, this is so bonkers it almost becomes good but alas...

FAVORITE MALE CHARACTER

Do Hyun Soo/Baek Hee Sung, Flower of Evil - he is so messed up, so on edge, so traumatized. Yet capable of so much warmth and caring even as he himself doesn’t realize his humanity. FoE is basically a story of a man pushed and punished by the world for his entire life who, because of one woman, finds a safe place and peace and slowly comes to life without realizing it, and watching his desperation to keep this small bit of normalcy is so heartbreaking and exciting all at once. Plus, you start the drama thinking he’s a psychopathic serial killer and end it (if you are me) thinking he must be protected at all costs and if anyone even looks at him wrong they must suffer, and that’s quite a change!

FAVORITE FEMALE CHARACTER

Nam Ji Ah, Tale of the Nine Tailed - she is so funny and tough and smart and loving and amazing that I will totally buy that a literal demi-god will do anything and everything for her and love her for literal eternity.

NEEDS TO BE MURDERED

Dad in Record of Youth - yes in a year with serial killers and supernatural demons, I picked a normal character from a mediocre drama. It’s his everyday awfulness to his family that hits so hard and I am sad he never got his comeuppance.

FAVORITE SHIP

Ji Ah x Yeon - a fearless reporter and an immortal demi-god who’s been hoping for his human beloved to reincarnate. A really rare set-up where the OTP is equally ride or die, so compatible and completely BAMF. I got why he waited for her for that long and then fell in love with her all over again. Perfection.

Runner up: Flower of Evil - he is so messed up he literally does not believe he is capable of love or empathy, but he falls in love with her anyway and so utterly she permeates his entire life. She is tough as nails and only believes what she sees and is the sole person who believes in him against the world. She loves him but he needs her. She needs him but he loves her. They are amazing.

FAVORITE SECONDARY OTP

Seo Dan x Gu Seung Jun, Crash Landing on You, North Korean x Conman were so good I shipped them harder than the main OTP and the end of that storyline pissed me off so much I dumped the drama and didn’t finish it for months (and it’s still dead to me.)

NOTP

Record of Youth - it started out and they didn’t have much chemistry but the dialogues were interesting and I thought the chemistry would grow. It didn’t and deteriorated, their dialogues became boring and relationship had zero development (about as much as the supposed female lead.) I think we were supposed to feel bad they broke up and they were going for a bittersweet open ending, instead I found myself happy about the break up of two incompatible, chemistry-less people and hoping for the love of God they never get back together.

FAVORITE SCENE

Yeon and the bridge of knives, Tale of the Nine Tailed - Yeon choosing to undergo the creeptastic bridge of knives for a chance to save Ji Ah, who at that point he is not aware is the reincarnation of his Joseon love because, as he says, he doesn’t care if she is or isn’t, it just would be more horrible to have her die than to undergo the horrific torture he is undergoing, and then the sequence with his catching her, her weeping over him and the fact that she is the original Joseon girl revealed and all the bandaging and his watching her sleep and all that loveliness, is everything for yours truly.

Runner up: Hyun Soo having that break-down at the cliff at the end of ep 15 of Flower of Evil as Ji Won desperately tries to convince him she is alive and he finally stumbles to her.

Runner runner up (it’s my list, I will do what I want): Do Won preparing to blow his brains out to give a chance to Seo Kyung to live in Train.

BIGGEST CRUSH

Seon-Gyeom, Run On. Yeah, I know. Im Siwan is tiny, delicate featured and has a runner’s build, none of which are things that normally appeal to me. But his character is so odd, so honest, so unflinching in pursuing what he thinks is right, so incapable of self-pity despite plenty of reasons for it, and so ridiculously attractive when he smiles, I don’t even care.

BEST SCENE STEALER CHARACTER

Kim Bum, TotNT - I started out being annoyed by him and ended up looking forward to his scenes and being distraught by his ending.

NEEDS A SEQUEL

Honestly, none. I was fine with all the endings. I wouldn’t mind seeing post-end life of Tale of the Nine Tailed characters or the OTP settling into their literal new world in Train, but I am good.

TROPE THAT NEEDS TO DIE

Time jump that solves all the problems off screen or alternatively years pass and everyone is frozen - something that kdramas need to learn and need to learn badly. See Record of Youth, Brahms and Start Up.

FAVORITE TROPE WE’VE SEEN A LOT OF

Men who are ride or die for their OTP - this was a great year for this - the male leads of four of my five dramas were beyond anything on that scale (only exception is Run On because it’s still too early to tell there.) Yes PLEASE.

BIGGEST DISAPPOINTMENT

This was a banner year for that what with Start Up, Do You Like Brahms, Record of Youth, and Private Lives all starting out well and nosediving off the cliff but winner is Crash Landing on You. I loved it so much for bulk of its run but the last episode pissed me off so much I deleted all my files and called it a day.

BIGGEST GOOD SURPRISE

Flower of Evil - I had no expectations of this drama and wasn’t even planning on watching it despite liking both the lead actors because yet another “look at evil serial killer be evil” drama with no romance was not my thing. Luckily someone convinced me there might be some romance and I peeked curiously. Honestly, their promo campaign was the most misleading and dumbest thing ever.

Runner up Psycho but it’s OK - I have never liked Kim Soo Hyun in anything before and the drama premise seemed WTF but it was shockingly good and KSH totally blew me away.

Hardest Working Lead

Yoon Shi Yoon - he starred in two (!!!) dramas in 2020 playing three characters and not only were both these dramas awesome in a lackluster year, but if it wasn’t for the fact that I knew it was the same actor and the fact that the characters shared a face, I would have never believed that they were played by the same actor. So good!

2020 DRAMAS I HAVEN’T SEEN THAT I MOST WANT TO WATCH

None. Covid Year gave me PLENTY of time

BEST NON-2020 DRAMA I’VE WATCHED IN 2020

My Beautiful Bride and Deserving of the Name - I was obsessed with both of them and honestly, they were much better than the bulk of 2020 kdramas I watched.

MOST ANTICIPATED IN 2021

The Moon That Rises in the Day, Hong Chun Gi, Joseon Exorcist, Island,  Frightening Cohabitation, Snowdrop.